


Evolution

by DragonlordRynn



Series: Evolution [2]
Category: Prototype (Video Games), inFAMOUS (Video Games)
Genre: Alex is being a dick, Cole had enough of it, Gen, Good Karma Cole, Just with Alex Mercer in it, Recounting of the events of inFAMOUS, Sasha is crazy, but he's an ass, kinda like real people would act, like usual, there is a big black dog in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 266,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11498319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonlordRynn/pseuds/DragonlordRynn
Summary: Three years after Manhattan, the Ray Sphere explodes in Empire City. Cole wakes up exhibiting strange powers, and he has to find a way to figure out how to survive when everybody suddenly wants his head. And then there is that guy with the claws too. Life suddenly got a whole lot more stressful. Also on ff.net. Now complete.





	1. Exodus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of a wild ride. I hope you're all with me.

** Exodus **

The streets were red. The buildings were red. Even the fucking sky was red.

Patrick Kings hated every moment of it. Every second breathing in the foul-smelling air in the deepest pits of those 'Red Zones', every heartbeat he did while others didn't, every shudder that ran over his body when he heard the distant screams of one of those zombies or the constant cawing of those blasted crows overhead.

Patrick wasn't a soldier- never wanted to be one. He just wanted to take advantage of the military by signing up and have them pay his college tuition. He didn't think they would do anything dangerous with him, have him maybe run around Iraq or work in the logistics- but then he was shipped to Manhattan.

To fight the monsters and zombies.

He had seen everybody he arrived with die in front of his eyes- most torn to pieces by those ape things, but many more ripped to shreds by the zombies. But there had also been the cases of friendly fire, especially coming from those Blackwatch guys.

Patrick had seen so many die, and wondered when it was going to be his turn. He didn't want to die, but here in Manhattan, it seemed like the only way out. He glanced at the guys besides him, realizing that they were thinking the same. He couldn't see their faces because of the masks, but he could see their brows drawn together, and he could see how stiff they were, clenching their weapons and glancing around nervously.

It was their job to clean up a street in SoHo. Despite the rather urban surroundings, they were anxious. The scent of rot and death was ever-present, curtsey from the many dead bodies littered around. Many of them used to be people- real living people, but Patrick could no longer care. He had stopped caring about the civilian casualties when he first came here. And after losing about three squads to the monsters, he also no longer cared about military casualties. He was just empty inside, no longer caring about anyone else other than himself or the question when his time had come.

His boot squished, drawing his attention. He just stepped into a puddle of blood and gore.  _Joy._

Patrick paused, frowning. The blood was...too fresh. The bodies too, because the smell of decay wasn't as bad as usually. Also, the carrion feeders hadn't arrived yet.

But there were no bullet wounds, no casings lying around. And they hadn't heard of another group who went through here first. Which meant, they weren't alone.

"Guys?" Patrick spoke up, his voice muffled through his own balaclava. "We should be careful."

The others stopped, too, eying their companion. Patrick swallowed. He knew that only one wrong movement would lead to his own death through his own companions. Paranoia was as high as it never had been before. Just a wrong word, a cough at a wrong time or anything else could mean that you were infected, that you weren't  _yourself_. Ever since this mess started, they all had adapted the 'Shoot first, ask later' mentality.

Still, they were still his squad- and every Marine was expected to take care of his squad. They weren't like those Blackwatch assholes, who would shoot the guy they've just been eating with for nothing more than a suspicion. So Patrick straightened his back a bit and pointed his rifle at the bodies strewn about. "The bodies", he pointed out. "They're too fresh. Something's torn through here not too long ago."

The others went rigid as boards. Patrick did too, once it settled in what he just said.

Something's torn through here. Something not human.

Not one of these ape things, though. They ignored the zombies and only attacked humans- and they left a much greater mess wherever they went.

No, this had been something much more dangerous. Something Blackwatch wanted them to believe was dead.

ZEUS.

The thing that started the entire mess. The thing that stole faces and hid behind them, the thing that easily murdered an entire squad of trained soldiers as if they were but ants to it. The thing that easily wiped away even the strongest of armor or gunship. The thing that had more deadly weapons at its disposal than any of them could count.

The monster that killed other monsters.

Patrick had often thought about the thing they feared. Much what Blackwatch told them about it just didn't add up. If ZEUS was what had caused this outbreak, then why was it fighting the zombies and apes and snakes? If ZEUS wanted to murder them just for the lust of blood, then why did it escape every time they saw it? If ZEUS had taken that nuke to eradicate them (with which they said it killed itself), why exploded it  _away_ from the island, and not in the center of it? If ZEUS wanted the zombies to prosper, why did their numbers dwindle so much within the last two weeks?

This street wasn't the first in this state he's seen. During the last fifteen days, he's seen many streets like this one- zombies and apes and snakes torn to shreds. All dead. Dead and safe. Blackwatch never told them, but they could guess. ZEUS had killed them all, was driving the zombie plague back.

Most of his guys assumed that this thing just didn't like any competition, so it killed everything that would scavenge its own food source- people. For the same reason, they assumed, was it that it defended Manhattan from Blackwatch- it was its territory, and everything inside belonged to ZEUS. So of course that thing got cranky if anything tried to take away what it believed belonged to it.

Patrick believed that there was something else driving this thing. Something that was less monster and more... _human_.

He never dared to voice those thoughts though, least he got a bullet in the head from the guys believing he was ZEUS in disguise.

"Contact!" Millers, their scout, shouted. They reacted in unison- weeks of surviving this Hell had trained it into them. If you didn't listen carefully, then you'd be dead very fast. Dead- or one of those zombies. Patrick wondered which one was worse- just dead, no matter whether torn to pieces or by a clean bullet through the head- or slowly wasting away, with your mind going bit by bit until only rage and hunger is left.

There was a chilling shriek from around the street bend, and a group of zombies rushed around the corner. Of course the bastards had smelled them. Zombies can always tell where people are.

"Walkers!" Houston, their captain shouted, "Get ready boys!"

It had taken them some time to stop shooting as soon they see the bastards. They can take a lot of bullets, but if you shoot them when they are still yards away, you'll just waste your ammo. They figured out it's safest if you let them come closer than ten yards before you shoot- this increases the chance to hit something vital, like their heads and chests.

The zombies shrieked again and rushed towards them, half-melted faces twisted in rage. Their deformed limbs flailed through the air as they ran, so they looked a bit like a mixture between headless chicken and chocolate santas that have sat in the sun for too long.

Patrick swallowed, feeling sweat trickle down his back as he glared along his rifle at the closest zombie. This one was still wearing rags of a camouflage uniform. It used to be one of them- one of the Marines, but wasn't anymore. He wondered what happened to the poor guy. Was he left for dead by his own comrades? Was he one of those unfortunate enough to end up catching the infectious teeth of another zombie? Was he just unlucky?

Patrick noticed a small zombie run besides the ex-Marine. This one used to be a kid, and his heart clenched painfully. But they couldn't help them. They were dead already. The only thing they could do for them was to release them from this cursed half-life.

He had already lined up with the zombie, when something shook the ground in a barely noticable tremor. It wasn't very much, but it was another sign of warning. Houston swore unders his breath. "Don't let those bastards out of your eyes!" He ordered, "But pull back!"

He didn't need to give a reason, mainly because they knew. Tremors meant that one of those snakes was going to surface nearby. They weren't too dangerous if you knew what you were doing, but it was impossible to take one down with just guns.

So the squad backed off. The zombies screeched and still ran towards them. Houston lifted his hand in signal. Any second now he would flick his fingers to the front and Patrick and the others would open fire on the bastards.

Something snapped through the air at incredible speed. There was the sound of flesh tearing, seconds before the entire group of zombies stumbled to the front, while their torsos slipped off their legs. Thirty zombie bodies hit the floor with wet splats near simultaneously, though most still continued to crawl for a few feet before the loss of blood finally killed them.

"Shit", someone whispered. Patrick followed his line of vision- and froze. Several more Marines cursed under their breaths and clenched their rifles harder, yet didn't shoot.

Anything short of an RPG missile to the face wouldn't even faze this bastard anyways, so using bullets was a waste of time and effort.

It was ZEUS.

The thing stood there, at the other end of the road. Its hooded head was slightly bowed and its shoulders were low, but its entire posture just screamed that it could very easily jump at them and maul them without so much as wasting a thought.  
Not that it  _needed_ to jump towards them, anyways. Its right arm was still in the shape of that clawed tentacle Patrick's seen a few times on surveillance tapes, the one ZEUS just used to slice through all of the zombies in one swing.

As its head rose, the entire squad flinched and held their rifles a bit higher. The cold sweat on Patrick's back had somewhere along the line turned into ice. His hair stood on end and he was trying very hard not to freak out completely. ZEUS's eyes were narrow, then they flashed and switched color from pale blue to golden. It scanned them for a short moment, before it turned its head away. It paid them no longer any attention after the initial eye contact, and proceeded with easily leaping off the floor and on top of a three-story building.

ZEUS vanished, leaving them alone with a street full of dead zombies.

The Marines relaxed slowly, and Patrick swore he would never, ever again go back to the Military once this was all over.

* * *

Blacklight was moving across SoHo, then headed North through Greenwich. The infection was dieing. The people that had survived were slowly starting to take back what Redlight ravaged. He had heard the radio news, had seen the reports on those televisions that still worked.

The Marines were hailed as heroes, while Blackwatch had once again ducked out of sight, removing any and all evidence about their involvement.

Not even Blacklight could drag them back out to the light, despite what he knew. This was their creed: Burn everything, even themselves to keep themselves safe. If he tried to pull at them, they would sacrifice something and hide deeper in the ground. He would have to tear them out and eradicate them all. But he was so tired of them, wanted nothing more than that they'll leave him alone. He never asked for this entire fucked-up situation.

Staying hidden was what he wanted, so why the blunder then?

Why didn't he kill the Marines he just met? He harbored no hatred for the Marines as he did for Blackwatch, but they were dangerous in their own way. They had seen him- they knew he was still alive when he tried very hard to not let Blackwatch know. They would tell about this, they would put those he didn't want back on his trail.

But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. They didn't shoot him and they hadn't been infected either, leaving him he without an excuse to do it. So he went away, leaving them untouched and knowing that the nuclear warhead didn't kill him.

He had no illusion about why he didn't do it. He knew perfectly well why- he wasn't the monster Blackwatch wanted to make him. He wasn't  _human_ , would never be, but he also didn't want to be what he  _really_  was.

His feet hit a tared roof besides the remains of a water tower, but he didn't continue moving. Instead, he glanced upwards and stared at the sky above him. The red clouds of the infection were still trying to swallow up every bit of light, but right over his head the sky was blue.

Like  _her_ eyes. Blacklight dropped his gaze to his reflection in the windows in front of him, taking in his appearance. He was thin, skinny almost, with a bulky leather jacket, faded jeans and slacks, and a gray hood on his head. His skin was pale, and there were deep rings beneath his silver-blue eyes. He scowled at his reflection.

He wasn't human- he wasn't born, but made. Blacklight wasn't anything that should ever exist. He wasn't even  _male_ , yet it felt weird not thinking about himself as  _him_. If he was a 'he', then who was he?

He wasn't  _him_ , just as he wasn't any of the others he could become so easily. It was so easy to turn into somebody else, and all of the forms he could take felt  _right_ , so why did he keep returning to this appearance? This wasn't  _him_ , this was just another body he could immitate. And worse even,  _this_ was the body of the bastard that started all this.

Blacklight roared in rage and crushed his fist into the window, cracking it. He was not him! He was not Doctor Mercer!

He paused when he caught sight of his cracked reflection. Black tendrils were running over his body, washing over his form in waves of black and red. He wasn't Doctor Mercer, but he had believed he was him. He had believed he was the man who created him. Everything he had done was because he thought he was human. But he wasn't.

Though now, even knowing the truth, it felt wrong to not act like Mercer. It felt wrong acting like his brethren, the Infected, did. He wasn't like them, wasn't like Greene. Even though he could easily take over Manhattan again, make all of it part of Blacklight. It would be laughable easy, too. He had seen how powerful he is, how hard he is to kill, even by stuff specifically made to hurt him. Redlight was afraid of water, but him it did not hurt. He jumped out of it only because he was afraid to  _drown_ , even though he knew he wouldn't drown. He didn't need to breathe, wouldn't have to pant through exertion, didn't have to grunt when he hit the floor after jumping from a gunship- yet he did because he believed he  _had to_.

But he didn't do what came to him as easy as breathing to humans. Instead, Blacklight tried acting like a human, fully aware he would never be one.

Yet he tried. Tried so hard. He wasn't Alex Mercer, but that didn't stop him from identifying himself as him. Because if he wasn't him, then why did he care so much for his sister? He worried about Dana, he fought for her, bled for her, was thrown through several walls for her, even though he didn't need to.

Ever since he'd woken up in that morgue he only wanted to keep her safe and be around her for her to fill the blanks in his head, but when he literally pulled himself together he wasn't sure whether he should return to her at all. He wasn't her real brother, and going back to her, craving her attention just felt so...cheap. He had avoided the hospital ever since, not daring to return out of fear that he might attract Blackwatch there. Or might just not like what he would find.

But then again, didn't she deserve the truth as well? She and Ragland both. They had helped him so much, without him ever giving back to them. They did deserve at least something.

Blacklight heaved an explosive sigh and turned to head East, to the Upper East Side where the hospital was. Where Ragland had been watching over Dana for two weeks now.

* * *

Nothing had changed in the morgue of the hospital. It were still the same hallways, still the same, empty rooms he walked past, still the same stretchers along the walls, still the same biting smell of antiseptics. Blacklight had taken the shape of a doctor he had consumed during the outbreak. The man had been in the first stages of infection, and Blacklight had required a civilian disguise. Now his face was just another mask he could wear. Another one of the many whose life he had stolen. He tried hard to not take any healthy civilians, but sometimes, he had no choice in the matter.

Blacklight shook his head and moved to where Ragland usually was.

When the door slipped open, he was greeted by yawning emptiness.

No Ragland.

And no Dana.

Blacklight froze. What had happened? Where was she? Where was the doctor? Did Blackwatch find them? Did they take them away? Had they been attacked by Infected?

He didn't want to think about this, because if he did, his consciousness was flooded with rage and hatred, and the desire to  _destroy_.  
But he couldn't ravage this place. Blackwatch wasn't supposed to know where he was. They weren't supposed to know he was  _alive_.

Blacklight exhaled, trying to get his body back under control. There must have been a simple, logical explanation. He was too fast to assume the worst possible event. Maybe it was all completely innocent. Maybe the morgue held some hints?

He went in, slowly moving along the rows of the stainless steel tables. His eyes scanned every milimeter, nothing escaped him. He could see tiny fractures, specks of dust, stains that never got out. He paused.

It was too much dust for a morgue. His finger slowly slid over the desk at the far end. The computer hadn't been used in a while. Nobody had been here for a week, at least.

His eyes narrowed as he spun on his heel and walked into the adjoining room where he's seen Dana last. Last was before he went to meet with Cross for the last briefing on Taggart. He had been in Dana's safehouse and had gathered all laptops, clothing and supplies he could find and took them to Ragland's morgue. Back then, Dana was still out of it.

Maybe that had been good, because he didn't know whether he would have managed to do anything other than grab her and get her away from Manhattan, away from Taggart, away from Cross and Randall. Away from the truth.

Blacklight shook his head again and glanced into the corner he had put the bags for her.

They were gone.

Relief flooded his system. If they were gone, then she couldn't have been taken by somebody, right? Blackwatch was maybe interested in her computer, but not in her clothes. But they had been moved away.

Together with Dana?

Blacklight hoped so. He wasn't her brother and any emotions he felt were merely copies of human behaviour, but what he felt for her was real enough. He wanted her to be safe. It didn't matter whether he was included in her life, but as long she was all right, it was fine with him. He could watch over her without her knowing, though it was slightly harder to do.

And maybe it was better when he wasn't in her life anyways. He didn't deserve her, had only endangered her the entire time. If he was gone, then Blackwatch would have no secure hold against him.

Would they?

Wouldn't he just come rushing to her rescue if they ever put their hands on her?

He shook his head again, trying to clear his thoughts. They had to progress in small steps. And the first one was to find Dana.

So Blacklight stepped back out of the morgue, pulling the door shut behind him. He lifted his head and closed his eyes, sharpening his other senses. He didn't know where Dana was, but that didn't mean it had to stay that way. He knew how she smelled. It was a scent he would never forget- a scent he was going to follow, no matter what.

It was hard, here in the hospital, with so many people crowded together, the scent of thousand other diseases, the smell of antiseptics, of death and decay. Humans don't notice it, but to Blacklight it was a horrid assault on his entire sensory system. It almost made him back off and look for a different way, but a little trouble had never scared him off- if anything it was another proof that nothing was able to stop Blacklight, only delay him. He had once managed to track a single Blackwatch sniper through half of Manhattan by scent alone, so finding Dana in a hospital was not going to be a great problem to him.

 _Approaching_ her though...that was another story altogether. He would worry about that later.

Blacklight was moving at a constant pace. Not too fast, but not too slow either. Purposeful, so nobody would question his presence here. He had learnt this very fast. If he was walking too slow or too fast, people would notice that there was something wrong with him. If he walked as if he had a purpose in the base he was infiltrating, then nobody questioned him.

Though- his steps faltered when he moved towards the stairs- this was a  _hospital_ , not some Blackwatch Base. The people here weren't out for his blood, they were sick and injured civilians. The only scanners they had were the handheld kind, the ones they could scan for the virus. Of course- pretty much everybody here didn't get into contact with Redlight anyways. Blacklight made sure to erradicate every last of the carriers. It hadn't been too hard- he required no sleep or rest, after all, but swooping down to take out a completely unmarked human was something he wouldn't do otherwise. It wasn't him. It was... _monstrous_.

Blacklight was no monster, but sacrifices had to be made. Who else was there to prevent another outbreak?

It had been the only thing he did after waking up from the blast. The only thing that seemed like something he should do. Something he didn't require someone's guidance for. He had found every last of those guilty. He had killed most of the Hunters and Hydras, had greatly reduced the Infected. All that was left to do was to destroy the remaining Hives, but the Marines had that under control.

He wasn't needed in Manhattan anymore.

His last purpose laid in Dana, and her safety.

Blacklight continued moving, stopping on every level to take a whiff. So far, she was nowhere to be found in the lowest levels, in the entrance area or the two stories above that. But her smell was  _everywhere_ \- and that meant, she was  _awake_. Out of the coma Greene put her in.

Something made a jump in his chest, making him wonder whether he really had a heart or whether it was just a remnant of his victim's emotions. Whatever it was, he felt...happy.

On the third story, he paused. Her scent was stronger here. Stronger and fresh, too.

He nudged the door aside and headed out into the hallways. He walked easily through the maze of hallways and rooms, guided by his keen sense of navigation and the plethora of memories he had. Every hospital looked the same in the end.

He found Dana, inside a lounge room, sitting on one of the chairs with a styrofoam cup in her hands. She looked tired, and was visibly thinner than what he remembered. Her hair stood in wild spikes away from her head, and much of it had been pulled together in a simple pony tail. It looked actually good on her, he realized. Her clothes were rumpled and covered more of her than what she wore last.

He scanned her closely. There were no traces of Redlight inside of her, and she appeared to be healthy, but she seemed stressed.

Her head suddenly snapped up and her eyes narrowed on him.

"What do you want?" She asked with a tired, but cautious tone.

Blacklight frowned slightly. There were security cameras everywhere, and people nearby. Blackwatch could still be watching, and he didn't want to risk luring them here. Dana was as much in danger as was everybody else here. But there were other ways, weren't there? He just hoped Dana would play along.

"I would like to speak to you", he explained to her, taking careful notice of her expression. She was alert.

"So? Then out with it."

"Not here", Blacklight replied. "Under four eyes." He saw her stiffen and her glare turned guarded. "It is really important", he explained slowly, "Regarding  _Blacklight_ " Dana flinched back, her gaze becoming hard.

"What do you know about it?" She growled.

"Important details", he explained, "But not for everybody." He jerked his head over his shoulder. "I would like to talk to you about this, though not here." Time to throw the dices. "I'll be waiting on the roof."

He left the room before he heard her reply, no matter how much he craved to stay with her. She wasn't his sister, but he didn't want her to be left alone. He didn't want to be alone either, and Dana was the only one he could trust.

He hoped she saw it like he did, and he hoped her curiosity was enough for her to follow his invitation. If not, then he had to figure something else.

* * *

The sun was setting. Blacklight stood at the railing of the roof, staring across the water of the bay. He was still wearing the doctor's form, having not bothered to change back as he waited. He had been here for three hours already, had only listened to the sounds of a dieing city. He felt no urge to head back there, not like he did when chasing after Greene.

There were steps behind him, though he didn't turn around. He didn't need to, he already knew who was coming.

He had recognized her heart beat.

"Hello Dana."

She inhaled sharply with a hiss, then suddenly he heard a gun click. "Turn around", Dana ordered, "Slowly."

Blacklight did as she told him, turning to face her fully. Dana glared at him, eyes narrow and with a 10mm pointed at him. "Before you open our mouth", she growled, "Tell me- who are you?" Her expression became tenser, though Blacklight could still see her tremble. She was afraid, but determined to not let him see it. He admired that about her. "You come in, throwing around things nobody knows and expect me to follow you like a brainless idiot? Who are you?" She glared. "I know all doctors in the hospital- and I haven't seen you until now."

Blacklight inclined his head. "I'm not Blackwatch, if you think this", he explained, "But I didn't know how else to contact you. Or find out how you're doing."

Dana frowned slightly at him, her gun slightly lowered. He had to reveal himself. There was no other possibility for her to believe in anything he said- unless it was  _his_ face.

Without warning, his body erupted in thousand of tendrils, that wrapped his entire shape in a nightmarish mass of twisting tentacles. Just for a second though, and when they retreated, he stood there in his usual shape. Immediately he realized that maybe he was a bit too hasty to reveal his  _true_ appearance to Dana, because her face was gray like ash and her eyes blown wide. Blacklight was  _worried_  for her, but didn't dare to step towards her when he remembered the way she shied back from him after she told him about Ragland.

"Dana?" Blacklight tried when she didn't move at all for a few tense moments. "Please, don't be scared."

"It-it's true", she whispered with a shocked expression. "Holy fuck. All of it is true!"

Blacklight took a step towards her in alarm. "What is true, Dana?"

She didn't back away, much to his delight, though she seemed shocked. "What Blackwatch had in their files", she muttered. Her fearful eyes met his startled ones. "It's all true, Alex. You- you  _murder_ people to take their faces-."

Blacklight frowned. "I do", he admitted. "But-I also took their memories. All that was them."

"Why?"

"Because I had to. Because they had caused this. They hid the truth- I found it. I found all of it. I know what they did." His frown turned into a scowl, though it was directed not at her, but rather at the city. "I made them pay for what they've done. Greene was a test subject. They used her to cook up viral weapons." He growled. "Randall- he could have stopped it all in Idaho. He could have killed her back then, but he didn't. Instead they took her- and you see what happened."

"Yeah", Dana scoffed. "Manhattan's dead. Millions are dead because of those bastards." She paused, then glanced at him. "What about you? You worked for Gentek. You worked for them."

Blacklight slowly shook his head. "Mercer's been a puppet in their game too. But he had been a wildcard. Couldn't be controlled. I don't know whether he'd been the one to make everything worse or was the only one with a solution to this. Without him- without his work, there would had been nothing to stop Greene."

Dana's head snapped up. "Alex- you said 'he', not 'I'. You're talking about yourself in the third person-what is going on?"

Blacklight lowered his head, shuffling his feet. "I'm not him", he said silently. "I'm not Alex Mercer." He slowly lifted his head to watch Dana's reaction. "I never was- I'm  _Blacklight_. The thing he made. The thing...that took his face when he died in Penn Station."

Dana stared at him before she slowly covered her mouth with her free hand and choked back a sob. "It's true", she groaned. "All of it." She sobbed loudly. "I have been such an idiot."

"Dana?" Blacklight took another step towards her, watching her worried.

"I've seen the files", Dana sobbed, "All of them. From the beginning, to the end. I've seen the records. I've seen Blackwatch shoot him..." She lifted her head, eyes filled with tears. "I've seen them kill him. But I thought that maybe they missed. Maybe they missed his vitals...God, I've been so stupid." Suddenly her sobs turned into a hysterical laughter. "Oh God. I should have know this.  _Blackwatch_ knew. They had it all in their files- and when you weren't there when I woke up with Ragland, I figured you discovered it too. It was all there- but I didn't want to believe any of it."

Blacklight stopped, stunned. "You  _knew_?!" He all but blurted out.

"Not really", Dana admitted, "But I should have pieced it together. Alex died in Penn Station- you appear at my doorsteps with no memories, but at the same time, you can take others'- as long they are  _alive_  when you get to them. I have seen the videos, of you transforming, shrugging off damage like it was nothing- of you taking somebody's form. This-this isn't infected behaviour. You aren't infected. You  _are_  the infection. But I didn't want it to be true." She buried her face in her hands with a moan. "I only wanted us to be together again, like in old times. Before yo- _he_  went away and became like mom."

Blacklight didn't know how to respond towards this. He was at loss for words, because he had imagined this going differently- with a lot more screaming and swearing.  _I'm not Alex Mercer._

He lowered his head and slowly turned around.  _I'm not Alex Mercer. I'm not her brother._

_I don't deserve her._

He had taken one step when he heard a gasp behind him. "Wher-where are you going?"

"I don't know", Blacklight replied honestly. "Away."

"Away?"

"From you. From Manhattan. From  _people_. I'm not like you. I don't belong here." He looked at Dana for a moment. "I need to find out  _where_ I belong. If at all."

"I just got you back!" Dana protested.

"You didn't", Blacklight mumbled. "You got a thing back that stole your brother's face."

"No. I got  _you_  back", Dana repeated firmly. When Blacklight turned, he noticed her determined expression. "It was  _you_ who rescued me from that Blackwatch Fucker. It was  _you_ who kept Blackwatch off my tail. It was  _you_ who chased that monster down to get me back." She wiped a stray tear off her cheek. "And Ragland told me it was  _you_ who rescued me  _and_ killed Greene."

She stepped towards him. "I told you before- no matter what, you are still my brother. You  _believed_ you were him. You  _wanted_ to be my brother. Family isn't just determined by blood, Alex. Family is always there for you. And you were there for me." Her tone dropped. "I don't want you to leave me alone again."

 _And I don't want to be alone._  Blacklight frowned. "If you decide to stay with me, you will never be safe from Blackwatch", he told her. "Whatever I do will affect you as well."

"Blackwatch had been on my ass even before this whole shit happened", Dana replied sharply. "And if you are around, I have a better chance of fighting back." She closed the distance and wrapped her arms around him, causing him to go rigid in fear. "We are in this together, Alex. You and I. We will figure out what to do.  _Together_."

Blacklight huffed out and slowly closed his arms around her back. "Together, then", he muttered.  _I am not the real Alex Mercer- but I am Alex, Dana's brother. We don't have to be alone. Not if we stick together._

* * *

"Alex? Are you sure this will work?" Dana didn't sound very convinced. It was a stormy night, and the morgue entrance was devoid of all life. Only Ragland was there- and a Blackhawk helicopter. Alex was currently wrenching off the emergency- and signal lights. The destroyed remains of the tracker were already scattered on the military compound he stole this helicopter from.

Dana had nearly suffered a shock when she saw her brother-turned-super-mutant  _carry_ an entire 25000-pound helicopter towards them like it was nothing. He said it would've caused too much ruckus if he had flown off with it, as if it had been perfectly  _logical_.

"It will", Alex replied. "I won't let anything happen to you, Dana."

Dana shivered from a breeze and looked around, while holding her bag closer. She had only taken the most important stuff with her- her and Alex's laptop, some changes of clothes and other articles, water and money Alex 'found'. He never told her where he had it from, but after seeing what he could do, she could figure out how. There were a lot of banks around that were unguarded now.

She didn't feel guilty about it- those fuckers were probably to blame that Blackwatch could do their Zombie Pox experiments anyways, but she felt guilty about leaving Ragland behind.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" She asked the coroner. The old man shook his head.

"I'm better off without you two", he explained. "I still have family who has to know where I am and Blackwatch won't harm me." He glanced at Alex. "But you- you two  _have_ to get out of here. Get away as far as possible so they won't find you, you hear me?"

Alex jumped off the helicpoter with a heavy thud. He inclined his head before he pulled his lips up in what could be loosely described as a smile. It was all teeth and honestly creepy as fuck, but at least he tried. "Thank you for everything, Ragland", he said, and it was honest. "Without you, we wouldn't be here today."

Ragland scoffed. "I know. I just did what was right. Just get out of my hair. Before I lose all of it", he added with a light chuckle.

Dana lunged over to hug him tightly. "Thank you so much, Doc. We won't forget you, you know?"

"You should be quick", another voice declared. Dana flinched and jerked back, while even Ragland looked more or less unnerved. A tall man with scars and a tell-tale black uniform stepped towards them. Alex, who had bristled, relaxed slightly. "Cross", he growled.

Cross glanced at Dana. "You two are going to haul ass then", he stated. "Good. Was sick of losing more men to you, Mercer."

"Alex- that is-", Dana tried to say, but Cross cut her off. "I'm Blackwatch. I know. But I owe your brother. He saved my ass- and I won't forget it." He turned to Alex. "The Hudson is tightly guarded", he told him, "But if you stay at a high altitude, you might get through undetected."

Alex frowned at him. He was telling the truth, as far as he could tell. But one could never know with Cross.

But he had been an ally through the end of this mess, had helped him get those responsible and against that nuke. It went so far that he might almost call him a  _friend_.

So he inclined his head, but said nothing, though he did nod his head slowly.

Cross snorted. "Blackwatch's going to realize sooner or later that you're gone though. Make sure you've gone off the map by then. If I do anything to cover your tracks, they'll notice that something's off."

"You have to protect your own ass. I get it."

Alex shoved Dana into the co-pilot's seat and took his own place. He paused and glanced at the two men. "Thanks"

He had the door closed before he could hear Cross's reply and switched on the engine. He had disabled all lights in the vehicle to mask their presence. It was very dark too, with the new moon just around the corner.

The Blackhawk rose from the street. Dana craned her neck to look at Ragland and Cross, watching how they vanished.

Alex grunted and turned the helicopter to the west, then tilted the nose down.

The Blackhawk started moving.

They watched, in silence, as they passed the many ravaged districts of New York. They could see the lights of soldiers working even in the night, they could see the occasional gunship pass by them without taking notice of them.

They passed over Hell's Kitchen, which had been destroyed to extreme proportions, and headed over the piers. Then Alex pulled the helicopter up- as far as somehow possible, even as it flew over the wide open of the Hudson River.

Dana didn't say anything, but flinched back they saw the shine of an F22 dart across the water. They were flying at a low altitude, but if they just looked up, they might notice them. Or the radar might find them. Alex was gambling with a high bet, but it was one he intended to win.

He wasn't the Monster of Manhattan that everybody feared for nothing. They would get out of this.

They crossed about two thirds of the way with no problem- until the proximity alarm suddenly blared out. Alex had smashed the radio beforehand too- because no amount of excuses were going to help if they would be discovered. They weren't only  _trespassing_ , they were doing so at night with a vehicle that had been garbled beyond recognition. Their attempt at escape should be painfully easy to recognize, even to these idiots.

"Alex!" Dana whispered in shock.

"I know", Alex replied. He activated the auto pilot and got up from his seat, dragging Dana up too. "I had expected them earlier, really", he explained. He took hold of Dana's shoulders and locked eyes with her. "I want you to trust me", he said. "Really trust me. Do not scream, no matter what happens, and hold on to me."

Dana nodded. "I trust you, Alex."

He nodded too. "Good." He turned around and knelt down, even as the proximity alert was screeching in their ears. "Get on", he ordered, gesturing to his back. Dana didn't have to be told twice. She slung her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her bag was safely secure on her back. Alex grunted once, and leathery tentacles rose from his shoulders and wrapped around Dana, further fastening her against him.

Then he kicked out one of the side doors. The wind roared in their ears, and Dana squeaked once before she pressed her face against his hood. Alex glared, saw the faint glow of a targeting missile rushing towards them- and jumped.

He dropped for a second, before his arms and legs snapped back and he started to glide, trailing red mist behind them. They were high enough up to cross a great distance while gliding, not to mention Alex could still push against the air for some extra range.

And, as their Blackhawk exploded behind them in a brilliant shower of super heated air, he knew they wouldn't be able to locate them by radar- they were simply too small.

Dana whimpered against his back as the wind rushed over them. Alex enjoyed the feeling of freedom though, and he couldn't help but prod his sister with a tentacle. "Dana!" He called over the howl of the air, "Look!"

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, having to shield them with a twist against his neck to keep the biting coldness out of them, but then she realized that they were  _flying_.

"Holy shit, Alex!" She gasped.

"I know", Alex chuckled, "We're going to make this."

He was slower than the helicopter when gliding, but they went unnoticed by several F22 racing past them or the gunships on the water. Alex twisted slightly and steered to his left side, to prevent landing near the lit-up areas of the other shore. Dana gasped and pressed her face back into his hood, but Alex was careful.

Still, the other side of the Hudson was still pretty far away, and Alex was slightly afraid they wouldn't manage it- but with a last burst they really managed to land on the dry shore in a heavy thud of gravel and sand.

Alex grunted before he took off running, unwilling to let Dana go just yet. Without bothering to take a breather, he rushed into the nearby woods. Nothing could stop him, and he was moving too fast for anything to catch a good view of them.

When his feet hit asphalt, he stopped abruptly. Dana was whimpering against his back, and he slowly let her go.

"Holy shit", she gasped, trying to stand when her legs wouldn't obbey her and wobbled like jelly. "That was freaking awesome", she said. "But let's not do this again so soon, okay?"

Alex chuckled. "Okay"

Dana looked around. "Where are we?"

"Outside of Jersey City", Alex explained. "In some motel parking lot."

"We can't stay here", Dana noticed. "I mean those fuckers are still going to look for us, right?"

Alex nodded, and headed for the parked cars. "They will, but when day comes around, we will be already gone."

He found a non-discript car and glanced inside. No forgotten stuffed toys or other objects that might hint towards a family car. Good, he could deal with this.

Dana walked to him, frowning. "And now?"

"Now we are going to commit a petty crime", Alex grinned. He slipped his tendrils into the lock and opened the car. "Compared to stealing tanks, this is easy", he added.

Dana huffed and slipped into the co-driver's seat and threw their luggage into the seats behind them. "I hope you have a plan", she added.

"I have", Alex replied as he sat behind the wheel. "Don't worry."

"You saying 'don't worry' is what worries me", Dana remarked.

Alex grinned, but didn't reply. Instead, he started the engine and drove off the motel parking lot.

Leaving Manhattan behind for good.


	2. The Courier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the second main character.

** The Courier **

 

Dana stood at the window of the living room, staring outside. Two and a half years. Alex and her had been on the run for around two and a half years now. Always moving to another city, always hiding behind another identity.

It was easy for _him_ of course- he could shapeshift and had millions of memories to choose from, but to her it wasn't. Alex did everything he could, from whipping up false identities, over creating an entire background complete with all necessary credentials, to teaching her the necessities to fake a new identity and giving advice on how to change her face through other means. Dana never gave the idea of a facial operation a serious thought though, but sometimes she believed this would make things easier- and it wasn't as disturbing as watching her psychopathic man-eating viral supermutant of a brother rattle off different ways of using make-up to alter her face (and worse was when he actually _helped_ her with her appearance, looking all serious and scowly as he always did, even when applying blusher to her cheeks).

She wouldn't say this time was _bad_ , but it was vastly different from what she wanted when she was younger. Always being on the run, hiding from Blackwatch- this was toxic to normal human interactions. Of course, they still had their few allies- allies like Ragland, like Cross...like Heller, but allies didn't equal _friends_.

The Heller story had been pretty disturbing really. They've been in some bumfuck town in the middle of the US to visit Ragland at the other side of the continent, when something startled Alex so badly, he nearly rushed back to New York on his own. Dana had insisted she'd come with him, and even though he tried to shake her off, tell her she was secure there; she still managed to convince him to take her with her. And he did, returning with her towards Manhattan which had turned back into Hell.

As it was,  _something_ of Redlight had survived. Something that nearly had the same abilities as Alex.  
In the end they discovered that it was more or less a hybrid between his Blacklight strain and Greene's Redlight strain. The 'Supreme Hunter'- something like Alex's  _son_ . The same thing he had fought twice already- once to get her back and once to stop the nuke, yet it was still alive. And it was a bastard like its 'mother' and intended to continue where she left off. With the Blacklight strain, this thing was even more dangerous and effective than Greene was, and a lot smarter. It stayed hidden, never ventures out in its true form and always had its spies to supply it with information- and Blackwatch immediately blamed Alex. Especially when the beast adopted his likeness to infect the city. 

But with him being a part of the Hivemind, the Supreme Hunter hadn't been able to keep the Outbreak quiet, not after it jump-started it and doomed the city with basically a  _sneeze_ \- and that was what drew Alex back to the city. Back to the Hive, to fight the new threat once more.

During this, they met Heller. Heller- who blamed  _Alex_ for the death of his wife and daughter and thus had allowed Blackwatch to use him as the guinea pig for their Supersoldier program. They had infected him with a variation of Blacklight, turned him into the first (and only) Blacklight D-Code. Outwardly, he didn't look much different than he did before, but he could heal rapidly, was super strong and was able to run up walls and jump in a manner similar to Alex. But Heller wasn't like him- he was unable to consume like Alex did, could not imitate people or clothing. Couldn't even grow weapons before he met Alex.

But he was curious, and when Alex had finally gotten through his fucking thick skull after several confrontations, they worked together to stop the Supreme Hunter and its new Outbreak, and they retrieved Heller's daughter Amaya- who was in fact alive and well under Blackwatch's control. They took her, screwed Blackwatch over and returned to bumfuck town. Cross had helped Dana much during this time, had helped her delete any and all evidence about James Heller ever being with Blackwatch, while Alex had consumed most of the scientists and higher-ups who ever had a word in this entire mess. A few he spared, but wrested the promise from them to never, ever go after Heller again. In the end, they could send him off to live a normal life. Over in L.A, where he could take care of Maya and work in the Crime Labs. Alex and him would keep in contact through the Hivemind they shared, but they rarely spoke to each other anyways.

Alex never said anything, but Dana knew that he envied him. Heller was more human than him, he  _was_ human to begin with, and could easily blend in with the normal folks. He was more of an Infected than Infection, more like a Supersoldier- but in a still normal human frame. He could easily live amongst them, and even on closer inspection, nothing would betray him.

Not like Alex. Without crowds to hide behind, without distance and buildings to swallow up his trace, he was wrong in every sense of the word. Unable to disguise himself asides from the basic appearance, anybody who looked at him closer would realize that things were  _different_ with him. And that was before they figured out what he did to survive. Unlike Heller, Alex could not really convert food. He could break it down, he could draw the nutrients from it- but this wasn't how Blacklight  _worked_ . Blacklight was a virus- anything it needed it produced itself, converting Biomass for its own growth. Alex was able to bend the rules slightly, was able to gain energy at levels of efficiency impossible in other living organisms- but he still needed to consume, to generate more Biomass through infecting others. Animals worked, but in cities where he felt safest, animals were sparse. He usually kept to humans, picking off the worst of the scum to feed himself. 

But it was still monstrous, and if too many people disappeared without a trace, then people were starting to get suspicious, and he and Dana were forced to re-locate before things got out of hand.

Heller had offered Dana to live with him, have Alex do his thing on his own, because without her, he could move much stealthier (a point even Alex agreed with), but Dana declined. She didn't want to leave her brother, and even though she really adored Amaya and liked her father as a friend, she chose to go the harder way and stayed with Alex.

He didn't say anything, but it looked like he was glad she did. For all the voices Alex had in his head and his overall misanthrope tendencies, he was not a solitary creature. As long she was there, they were an unbeatable team.

Even if it meant cutting back and living a life on the run.

Alex walked into the room, glancing around before he settled his eyes on her.

“What are you thinking about?”

Dana smiled wistfully. “Our life”, she said, “And the weird-ass turns it had taken.”

Alex frowned. “I could ask-”

She waved him off. “Nah. Not this again. I know Jim's going to be glad if I wanted to live with him and help him with Maya, but I don't want to intrude into their family. Plus- you need me more than he does.”

Alex tilted his head. “I can deal with my stuff on my own”, he pointed out.

Dana smiled at him. “And we both know you would just end up murdering the first person you disagree with. Let's face it- without me you'd be fighting everybody and Blackwatch would be on your trail faster than I could say 'Told you so'.”

“Would not”, Alex replied.

“Would too”, Dana answered.

“Would not.”

“Would too.”

Alex held her gaze for a moment before he huffed out. “Fine. Be that way.”

“I knew you would see things my way”, Dana grinned.

Alex stepped to stand next to her, but in a way he could not possibly be seen from outside the window. Dana looked outside. “I guess this place is pretty okay”, she explained. “Not too expensive, and the city's nice.”

“If you stay away from the slums”, Alex added gruffly. “That place isn't secure.”

She shrugged. “It's a big city. Ten million people. You know how humans are- there are _always_ fucktards around.”

A sinister smile was on Alex's face. “I know”, he said, “More than enough to blend in with the crowd and vanish. More than enough scum.”

 _To eat_ , but he didn't say that. Dana knew it, but it still felt wrong, even if they deserved it. Alex tried to work subtle, though. He never left any trace of them, and he took care to take their money for them too. As long neither of them would be investigated too closely, nobody would be suspicious. And maybe they could slow down slightly.

She glanced at him. “Do you think we can stay here a while longer than just a few weeks?”

He frowned again. “I think”, he said, “Blackwatch's still looking for me, but last Cross told me was that they're looking in the wrong direction.” He sighed. “As long we don't fuck it up, I think we can stay a bit longer before they become suspicious.”

“And you know what that means”, Dana reminded him sternly.

Alex huffed out. “I know. No wallrunning during the day, trying to land as softly as possible, no over-the-top violence...This takes all the fun.” He glanced at his sister. “You know, I would have more fun if we went into some other country, like some South American one. Brazil's supposed to be nice. Or Mexico.”

Dana made a face. “Alex, I already told you, I can not survive in a place like that. There are fucks everywhere, and even with my self-defense classes I can't stand against an entire gang and you can't be around me 24/7.” She nodded to the city outside. “Here I just have to be careful about going into the really dark places, as long I stay in the bright areas, nothing will happen.”

Alex frowned at her. Dana shrugged. “Don't look at me like that- denial is my best friend after Manhattan.”

“I'm not sure that's healthy”, he mumbled. His sister cut him off. “The whole world isn't healthy, Alex. We can just roll with it.”

“Maybe”, he agreed, “But sometimes we have to do something about it.”

* * *

 

The sun was shining through the single window of the bedroom. It wasn't a very large room, though. A single bed took over most of the wall beneath the window, a small night table that had been scavenged in some yard sale was next to the head end of the bed, and a plywood wardrobe that had seen better days was placed against the wall next to the entrance. An ugly carpet was on the floor, covering the even uglier floorboards with its shabby appearance.

The single occupant of the room was already awake. Had been for several minutes by now, hadn't moved, though. He blinked at the pale light, then slowly moved his gaze to the battered radio clock sitting on the nightstand.

Satisfied that he wasn't too late, he sat up and stretched his body with a hearty yawn, before he slipped out of bed and padded out of his room towards the kitchen.

After throwing a glance into the fridge, he decided that eggs and bacon were okay for breakfast. His girlfriend was always on his case that his particular choice of breakfast was too greasy, but he was leading an active lifestyle so he did require a lot of energy. Plus, eggs and bacon were about the only food he could prepare without setting the kitchen on fire.

He usually ate alone, not because he lived alone, but rather because his roommate wouldn't crawl out of bed until noon. Still, after he dropped his dish into the sink, he went to his roommate's room and peeked through the door. “Yo”, he called out, waiting for the grunt of acknowledgment. “I'm going out, Zek. Food's in the kitchen.”

“Mrgh”, the other muttered. He turned around and hugged his pillow closer. The other pulled back with a snicker and went to the bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth.

A quarter of an hour later, he left the apartment building, pushing his bike out of the basement. Empire City was lively, but in the early morning hours, most people were still asleep. He liked this time, mostly because that also meant that there were less idiot car drivers to run him over. After that one meeting with a freight truck, he was more careful about things like that.

He pushed off and pedaled down the street quickly. From their apartment, he headed north, then slightly west to get to the Fremont Bridge. It was a cool morning this late spring day, but it didn't bother him very much. His trademark yellow and black jacket would keep him warm.

He drove over the large Fremont Bridge, silently thanking whoever was up there that there weren't any trucks around at the moment, before he turned slightly and rode past a large parking garage to pass by the tall Stanton Building.

The Historic District wasn't a very expensive area, but it was too much for him or Zeke to pay for an apartment there, since both were College dropouts and scraped by with odd jobs (Zeke) or a simple courier job (like his). He didn't complain though, this was what he's chosen for himself.

And he was damn proud of himself too.

His girlfriend had supported him on his entire way, told him that it didn't matter how much he made because he was all that was important. His own folks had been less supportive, and he knew that his parents both did not want to believe the truth. Well, tough. That wasn't his problem and this wasn't their life. If they didn't like it, then they could screw right off.

He turned his bike to head into a small apartment area. He knew the way by heart, since he would head here nearly every day.

His wheels screeched when he stopped in front of a ten-story complex, and he hopped off. He locked his bike, then went to ring at the doorbell.

“ _Yeah?”_ A sleepy female voice asked after a moment over the intercom.

“You should know by now who I am”, he replied.

The voice scoffed, then the speaker's tone changed. He knew that she would turn around. _“It's your boyfriend!”_

The intercom was shut off and he simply waited outside. It didn't take very long for the door to open, revealing a slim brunette with short hair and a wide smile on her face. She wasted no time latching on him and pressing a kiss on his lips. “Good morning, Cole.”

“Mhm. It's always good when you are around, Trish”, he replied with a grin.

“Egh!” The first speaker groaned. “Can't you guys trade spit somewhere else?”

Trish glanced back and glared at the younger woman. “You are just envious that I got a hot piece of ass and you don't, Amy.”

Amy threw her arms up. “Yeah. God damnit, everybody else in this blasted city is either taken, an idiot or-” She shuddered, “Dunbar.”

“I hear you”, Trish lamented. “But don't speak ill of my boyfriend's best friend.”

“Nah”, Cole threw in. “You can speak ill of him as much as you want, Amy.”

“Niceness will not change the fact that I loathe you for taking my sister away from me”, Amy gave back. “But I can't do something against it- you guys stay together even after _Monopoly_ , and that means something.” She huffed. “Get her back by nine- she still has a job to do, unlike you, MacGrath.”

Trish rolled her eyes. “Amy. You know he's a hard working member of society. Also, we are just going to jog around the block. Not going on a wild tour.”

“Bike Courier isn't a real job”, Amy sing-sang and vanished back into their apartment on the second floor, before any of them could reprimand her.

Despite her harsh words, Cole didn't rise to the bait. He turned his attention to Trish instead. “Ready?”

“Yup”

They moved to the sidewalk before they set into motion. For a few months now, they would jog together before they had to get to their respective jobs, no matter the weather. Cole was the better runner, but Trish was determined to keep up with him. As long he didn't start climbing buildings or surf on top of trains, it was easy enough.

“I heard you have a free day soon?” Trish asked after the first mile, slightly out of breath.

“Yeah. My boss allowed me to take a few days off.” Cole wasn't even winded.

“Anything special planned?” She asked with a wink.

He shrugged, a motion that melted seamlessly into the movement of his upper body as they moved along. “Hanging with Zek”, he said, “Or maybe I'm going sit on your doorsteps, wait for you to get back home and give Amy cash to go to the movies, so I can have you all to myself.”

Trish chuckled and swatted his shoulder. “Aren't you a charmer?”

“I'm always on my best behavior around you.”

“You aren't. You snore.”

“I don't”

“You do.”

“...Ah, damn. Then Zeke was right. Now I owe him five bucks.”

“You know, I could also be lying and this could be a pre-arranged act between him and me to get you to pay him five dollars.”

“You wouldn't dare.”

“You know nothing about me, MacGrath.”

He looked slightly offended. “Four years, Trish, and yet I still don't know _everything_ about you?”

She grinned at him. “I have to keep some secrets.”

Cole snorted amused, but didn't answer. When jogging, it was better to preserve breath anyways.

They reached a small park area (really, it was more of an unkempt ex-garden) until something stopped their trek abruptly- It was a yellow object, that hit Cole's head at high velocity. Cole flinched back with a swear, but caught whatever just attacked him.

He and Trish both blinked in confusion at the object.

“Is that...a tennis ball?” Trish asked.

“It is”, Cole replied, frowning. It was slightly battered already. “Uh...where did it come from?”

Trish was about to answer, when a thunderclap shook the air around them. They both jerked back startled, realizing a second later that it wasn't thunder, but rather a dog bark. From a dog. That just shot towards them.

Going thirty miles per hour.

“Holy!” Cole managed to gasp before the dog collided with him, sending him sprawling against the floor.

It was a pretty large dog, nearly the size of a small bear, with pitch-black fur. Cole wheezed, trying to push it away so he could get back up, but the dog seemingly decided that the guy who stole its ball wasn't allowed to stand up.

“Cole! Is everything all-” Trish cut herself off with a surprised noise. Then her voice pitched. “Commander! Where are you coming from?!”

The dog, recognizing her, stopped trying to get to its tennis ball and turned its attention to her with a friendly woof, tail wagging. Trish chuckled and scratched the dog's massive head, while tugging at its collar. “Heyyyy, haven't seen you in a while”, she cooed, “I know you're a good boy, but what about getting off my boyfriend?”

The dog complied, easily stepping away from Cole before it sat on its haunches and eyed her. Even sitting, it was a damn huge thing.

Cole sputtered. “You _know_ this monster?”

“Yup”, Trish grinned, “Amy and I sometimes get to dog-sit him. He's a nice enough guy.” She frowned. “Where's your mistress, hm?”

The dog barked once, moments before a disheveled, blonde young woman wrestled her way through the shrubbery with a muffled explicit under her breath. Cole was just dusting himself off when she noticed the three of them and jogged towards them. “Fuck”, she exclaimed, “I'm sorry. I didn't look where I was throwing that thing and I'm kinda lethal with throwing...”

Trish waved her off. “Nah. Don't sweat it. Cole's tougher than he looks and Commander didn't harm him.”

“Can I complain, though?” Cole piped up. “I have just been mowed down by a bear in a dog disguise!” He glared at the owner. “So you owe me.”

She held his glare with a sharp look of her own, before Cole grinned and patted his would-be assaulter. “Just joking. I mean, it's a dog and accidents happen, right?”

The other woman relaxed slightly. “Yeah. Sorry about it- but I was kinda afraid you'd kick me out of this place here too.” She snorted. “Got booted from the park because a lot of cranky old ladies complained about Commander. Were afraid he'd eat the kids or something.”

Trish frowned. “Him? He's the nicest dog around. Way nicer than those little yipping mutts at any rate.”

“See? I tried to tell them too. Besides, he doesn't eat kids. He eats kibble, squirrels, shoes, drug dealers and burglars.”

Cole frowned. “Trish? Would you maybe introduce us? Because I'm kinda missing the whole picture.”

Trish blinked. “Oh. Of course.” She pointed to the blonde woman. “That's Christine. She mans the front desk at Bayview for the night, so we always meet each other when I have the night shift.”

“I'm more of a glorified secretary at the moment”, Christine explained with a shrug. “But hey- whatever earns me money.” She eyed Cole. “So this is the boyfriend you've been talking about?”

“Yup” Trish grinned. “Don't think about trying to woo him though- he's mine.”

“Don't worry. Commander would probably throw a fit if I meet with other people. He's very protective”, Christine chuckled, petting her hell hound.

Cole frowned. “Uhm- asides from the whole question why the hell you have such a beast of dog- why is his name 'Commander'?”

Christine shrugged. “He's part _shepherd_.”

* * *

 

It was night. There was no moon and the stars were covered by clouds. Not that they would have been visible otherwise- this city rarely sleeps and the perpetual light swallowed up whatever natural illumination was there.

Alex Mercer was crouched on the tallest building, watching the bustling life below. This place was so different from Manhattan- and yet exactly the same. It didn't look like there were many possibilities to make cities different from each other, he assumed, so in the end all the large cities looked similar.

Tall buildings (though not as tall as in Manhattan), public places, parks, cars, public transportation, millions of people- criminals and slums. He'd seen it all. Of course, this place was not as bad as some other cities he'd been in were. Detroit came to mind, but the district to the west was close enough.

Alex liked the western district the most out of the three of this city. There were the slums, and the prison. There was more than enough prey to satisfy him.

He had been careful, though. Unless he wanted Blackwatch to know where he was, he couldn't cut loose anymore. It didn't bother him too much, though. He got enough excitement from stalking his would-be victims, so he didn't need wide-scale slaughter. Not to mention that there weren't any large groups of perfectly viable targets, like the streets full of infected or Blackwatch compounds for him to go all out. Alex didn't enjoy killing civilians, especially not innocent civilians, so he hadn't had many chances to stretch his claws in...forever. Taking out gangs and drug cartels, like he did in Detroit and Miami, could only be done for so long until someone would get suspicious. Until he and Dana were forced to relocate.

Dana had wanted some stability, something to stay for a while before they inevitably fucked up, so Alex was determined to allow her relax and keep up the facade for a bit longer. For Dana, nothing was beyond his abilities.

For now, though, he had free range and could do whatever he wanted to do, as long he kept it overt.

He glanced down, checking whether anybody was going to notice him, before he leapt off the building and snapped his arms back, soaring through the dark sky. Tonight he wasn't going to head to the western district, though. Picking off the many homeless and criminals there was easy, but if he didn't take care he would become sloppy. So he decided to go to the southern district and look for a few of the many drug dealers there. And the salt water river between the districts wasn't anywhere deep or wide enough to hinder his movement anyways. Hell, heading over to the main land was laughable easy too, and that little creek wasn't going to stop him. So when he reached the southern district, he was still high enough to pass across the subway tracks before he touched down with a resounding _thud_. He pushed off the roof at the same moment though, idly noticing the single sofa, the TV, fridge and other objects he knocked over. If the occupants were to check for the source of the crash, he would be long gone. But knowing humans, they probably wouldn't. They have been ignorant to him and the Infection back in Manhattan, they never managed to put two and two together in Miami or Detroit, and even Blackwatch never seemed to figure out his pattern.

It was hard to believe that they were actually a threat to him. In fact, to _him_ they weren't. They were only dangerous to Dana, and it wouldn't matter whether he was still with her or not- if Blackwatch would find her, then they would harm her to get to him.

Alex snorted and headed atop another rooftop, taking care to jump across the building's facade instead of wall-running to prevent a tell-tale track of footprints up the wall. Even when nobody ever seemed to notice it, it was better to not push his luck.

He glanced down, watching the dark streets below for viable candidates for consuming. Unlike in the slums, in this district it was slightly harder to figure out where to find his prey. The drug dealers he looked for didn't appear in open areas like the hooligans in the slums did, but he had been chasing after scum like them long enough to have figured out their patterns. They usually hung around alleys and derelict buildings, but close enough to public places to sell their wares.

He stopped, half-hanging by one hand off the rooftop. His eyes narrowed, focusing on a guy lurking in the mouth of an alley. He wore a hoodie, a baseball cap, worn jeans and sneakers. Alex pushed off and soared lower, carefully landing on the rooftop above the man. From here, his sense of smell could pick up traces of drugs. Cocaine, Meth, even Crystal. He didn't smell like a junkie though, and he had a poorly concealed handgun in the waistband of his pants.

He smirked and got up, right arm writhing and changing into a twisted mess of strands in red and black, tipped with five silver claws. He pulled the Whipfist back and flung it to the front, claw slicing through the air at an incredible speed. The dealer was send sprawling to the front when the talons connected with him, before Alex _yanked_ and dragged him back. The rapid change of direction knocked all wind from the man's lungs, preventing him from screaming.

Alex didn't give him a chance to. As soon the man was close enough, Alex slammed him hard into the roof, snapping his neck and killing him. His feeding tendrils connected, drawing the man inside with practiced ease. The viral weapon huffed out, letting the new set of memories implant themselves into his mind. Another dealer, like he already had so many of. It were different faces, different cities, different gangs- but this guy was just the same as all of the others. For being the most innovative and intelligent species on this planet, humans were incredibly bland and boring.

He glanced at the cracked roof tar. He wondered what he should do now? Use the guy's memories and track down the others? He could do it. It would be easy, but then he would have to lie low for a week until something else took the public's attention away from the sudden disappearance of several dozen men before he could continue.

Should he allow himself two or three more before he'd call it a night and return to Dana? He could return the next night and continue feeding, so it wouldn't be too obvious, but then maybe the leaders would go into hiding once they notice their numbers dwindle.

He pondered for a moment before he began moving. He would take out the whole gang, feed off them and replenish his Biomass, then wait for a few days until grass had grown over the whole deal.

Alex dropped to the floor, careful to glide for the last distance to prevent cratering, and quickly shifted into the dealer's shape. With a small grin, he walked deeper into the alleyway, vanishing in the darker areas of the district.

Empire City was about to lose a part of her 'undesirable' population.

* * *

 

Cole frowned, puzzled, at the mess on Zeke's rooftop. The couch lied on its side, the fridge and TV had been knocked over, the various empty take-out cartons were strewn about. He had heard something of a heavy thud in the middle of the night, but hadn't been sure whether it had been a dream or if in some neighbor's apartment something fell over. But now he had to realize that something had hit their roof hard.

He scratched his head in confusion.

“Hey man”, Zeke called out, walking through the door to meet him. “Here you are. I have been lookin' for you.” He halted in his movement when he noticed the state of his roof. “Have you been doin' a little redecoration?”

“No”, Cole replied. “But in the night I thought I heard a bump. Didn't think too much of it and went to sleep again.” He shrugged. “Today I went for groceries after meeting with Trish and remembered it. Came up here, found that.”

“Dude, I don't think this had been a tornado”, Zeke pointed out.

“It wasn't” Cole went to the middle of the roof. “See that? All your stuff has been flung _away_ from this point. Plus-” He tapped the flat depression with the toe of his shoe, “This looks like an impact crater.”

Zeke furrowed his brows. “So, you wanna say that we got hit by a meteor?”

“Maybe”, Cole shrugged, “Though I'm not seeing anything.”

“Yeah. Guess it doesn't really matter”, Zeke agreed. “We could just, dunno, put a carpet on the hole and everything's gonna be okay.”

“Think so too.” Cole walked to the back of the roof and rummaged through the plastic box there, pulling a beaten and moth-eaten rug out of it. Together with Zeke, he put it over the crater. The courier then threw a glance at the upturned sofa. “Come over here and help me with this thing”, he requested. “I'm not going to lift it on my own.”

“Aw, man. I'm not the muscles. I'm the brain, you know?” Zeke complained.

“Less talking”, Cole replied, “More lifting.” He glanced at his best friend. “Might help you get that tub of lard off too. Then you'll maybe get girls.” He paused with an amused smirk. “If they actually dig an half-assed Elvis impersonator with a horrid sense in fashion and humor.”

“Oh hey!” Zeke pouted, but still helped Cole lift the couch and put it back. They then proceeded with tidying up the roof, placing the television and the fridge back and removing the takeout packages. Then Zeke threw a look at his watch and uttered a startled yell.

“Oh Hell! I'm gonna be late.”

Cole frowned. “Late for what?”

“I wanted to meet with Dwight”, his roommate explained, “Wanted to stay the night too. He found some awesome stories.”

“You mean conspiracy theories”, Cole pointed out.

“They're not theories”, Zeke argued. “They're true!”

“Sure. And Abstergo abducts people off the street”, Cole deadpanned. He paused and glanced at Zeke. “Wait. _Dwight_?”

“Yeah?”

“The Dwight that, I dunno, _stole_ your car and _sold_ its parts?!”

Zeke shuffled his feet. “Yes?”

“Zek, I thought you were done with him. You said you never wanted to see him again.”

“C'mon. He's my best friend besides you.”

“He stole your car, Zeke!”

“That was in the past.”

“He has a serious drug addiction!”

“He has a hot sister.”

“...I worry for your mental health.” Cole threw his arms up in defeat. “Fine. Go then. If you get back here wearing nothing but your glasses because he sold your stuff for a shot, I'm going to tell you 'Told you so'.” He turned to head back inside the building. “Meanwhile, I will enjoy my day off with a cold beer and _Super Mario_.”

“Don't have too much fun without me”, Zeke called after him.

* * *

 

Cole was draped over the sofa in their apartment, head rolled back and eyes closed. The television was on, and the words 'Game Over' flickered over the screen. The controller sat forgotten on the cushions besides him.

He had made it halfway through the first three missions before the entire amount of exhaustion that had accumulated throughout the last few weeks hit him. His job as bike courier was demanding much from his body, so most of his free days he spent actually sleeping it off.

The ring of the doorbell startled him out of his sleep, so bad he flailed off the couch and hit the floor with a pained yelp.

He groaned and glared at the closed door, wondering just who it might be.

The bell rang again. He grunted and climbed to his feet, then shuffled over to the door with a yawn.

“Zeke, I told you not to let Dwight cheat you out of your stuff”, he grumbled as he swung the door open. “If you lost another key, I won't pay-” He cut himself off, eyes wide in surprise.

“And hello to you too, Cole”, Trish grinned at him.

Cole blinked, mouth opening a few times until he managed to work his tongue. “Trish?!”

“Yes”

“I thought you were at work?!”

The nurse smiled. “Surprise! I got the day off.” She lifted a plastic bag. “And to celebrate it, I got your favorite snacks. And beer.”

Cole blinked, then a huge grin appeared on his face as he stepped back. “You always amaze me, Trish.”

“I know.”

She set the bag down on the low coffee table while Cole went to get a bowl for the snacks. When he returned, he noticed Trish browse his and Zeke's gaming collection.

“Looking for something special?”

“Just dirty secrets”, she explained, “Like those Japanese Porn games.”

“Nah. You won't find them here”, he replied, “They're too expensive for us. We only have second hand games.”

“Really?” Trish pulled out a copy of _Street Fighter_. “Then I do hope you're ready to get your ass kicked, MacGrath.”

Cole set down the bowl and picked up the controller. “Prepare to get beaten. I am _lethal_ with Chun Li.”

* * *

 

It was early in the morning when Zeke came back home. He remembered why he avoided Dwight. Not only that he tried to tap him for money, but his apartment also smelled like fry fat and stale smoke. And he had the incredible ability to suck up spare time like a vacuum cleaner, making both of them forget to eat or drink aside from an occasional beer. Not that he had much else in his apartment- Dwight was known for being constant broke.

Oh God. Zeke's eyeballs were itchy, his mouth felt like old leather and his brain felt like jelly. Alcohol, dehydration and the latest gossip about secret governmental projects were a bad combination. Also, Dwight had found the blog of somebody called _Athena_ , and those things had been _gold._ They hadn't slept at all, and around six in the morning Zeke finally decided that he should return home.

It was Sunday, and thus, it was very calm. Nobody disturbed him as he stumbled home.

He really needed greasy eggs and bacon. Hopefully Cole would be already awake and prepare him some breakfast and coffee. Lots of coffee. Black.

He needed longer than usual to unlock the front door, but once he did, he staggered inside.

Chaos greeted him.

Zeke blinked dumbfounded. Hell, this looked like a few cupboards exploded. There were two controllers thrown on the couch, an empty gaming cartridge lay in a corner, the game itself peeked out of their gaming station. The television was off, though.

The coffee table stood at a wrong angle, as if it had been pushed away from its original position. There was a half-eaten bowl of snacks (those little salted dog-shaped crisps Cole seemed to like so much) and a lot of crumbs. Several empty bottles rolled around on the floor.

Zeke frowned as he moved further inside. He found Cole's shoes in different corners of the room, as if they'd been kicked off. On the couch was his yellow and black jacket, and his T-shirt hung over the arm rest.

Besides the couch was something white. Zeke went over and picked it up, blinking in confusion at it. It was a white blouse, but too small to be Cole's.

Also, it was a woman's.

_Right. Trish. Trish was here?_

He blinked again, noticing the trail of discarded clothes going in a straight line to Cole's room.

_Yup. Trish's definitely here._

Zeke sighed and went to get himself a mug of water. He wasn't sober enough to face his best friend. Not right now. Cole would _murder_ him if he went on to disturb them. Not something he wanted. So he stayed where he was, drank his water in slow sips and started to clean the living room.

He also prepared breakfast, fried eggs and bacon and grilled some toast.

Three hours later, Trish was the first to arrive. She looked disheveled, with her hair sticking out at random angles. Her clothes were a mess and didn't look like they've seen an iron lately. Zeke briefly wondered where she got them, because her stuff was in a pile on the couch- but then he remembered that Trish, and Cole to an extent, had some of their stuff stashed at each other's apartment.

She had reached the kitchenette and slumped at the table with a groan, then reached blindly for the glass of orange juice.

“Mornin', angel”, Zeke greeted her way too chipper.

“Morn'” Trish muttered. “Ugh.”

Cole came in next, dropped into his chair and snatched a strip of bacon off Zeke's plate, then chewed it slowly and with the uttermost care.

“You guys had a party”, Zeke whined, knowing fully well his pitched voice hurt their ears, “And you didn't invite me.”

“Private party”, Cole grunted.

“You weren't allowed”, Trish added. She groaned again and eyed the collection of empty bottles at the counter. “Shit. How much did we have last night?”

“Dunno”, Cole replied. “I stopped counting after the fourth bottle.” He paused, frowning. “I think it was the weird stuff Zek cooked up in that microbrewery across the street.”

“Remind me to never drink with you again”, she murmured.

“Not my fault. Chun Li made us do it.”

“I'm a nurse. I should know the dangers of drinking unregistered stuff. We could be blind, you know?”

“Pf”, Cole waved her off. “Then you would've been the last thing I ever saw and it would've been _perfect_.”

She slapped his arm and Zeke groaned. “Really guys? Not only you were all over each other like a couple of randy teenagers, but you also have to rub it into my face that I don't have a girlfriend? I don't even have a girl for friend.”

“Because you are repulsive”, Trish cooed.

“Drop a few pounds and get some common sense”, Cole added, “Then maybe.”

“I hate you so much”, Zeke grumbled.

Cole's phone suddenly started ringing. _Loudly_. He and Trish both cringed back with a swear.

It kept on ringing, until Cole had enough and stomped over to it with a glare.

He answered it. “Yes?” Okay, maybe he was a bit too aggressive.

“ _MacGrath”_ Oh joy. It was _George_. His boss.

“What?” Cole growled.

“ _Lose that attitude”,_ George told him, _“I have a package for you here.”_

“It is Sunday. I have the day off.”

“ _Look- the client said it is very important.”_

“So? Get Bud on it. He has the Sunday shift.”

“ _Won't work. He was very specific. It has to be you.”_

“The client can screw himself”, Cole hissed.

“ _Then you can kiss your job good-bye”_ , George replied with an equally sharp tone. _“You either come over here and deliver that package, or I will fire you. And then good luck trying to find another job with that shit certificate of yours.”_

Cole's teeth ground together. He noticed the glances of his friends, before he bit out, “Fine. I'll be there in two hours.”

“ _Make it one hour.”_

“Fine” He clicked his phone off with way too much force. Great. Wonder how much that client paid for this job. Must've been a Hell lot, because otherwise George would be a little more approachable.

“You heard that?”

“Yeah”, Trish sighed. “Sounds like a fun boss.”

Cole exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look- I'll get over there and finish this job”, he grumbled unhappily. “It's just one package. Shouldn't take too long.”

“Be careful, brother”, Zeke told him. “You look like you have a Hell of a hangover.”

Cole grunted in reply, then went to the bathroom for a shower.

* * *

 

Cole swore his skull was about to explode on him. He actually hoped it would, because then the headache would stop and he would be relieved of his problems. The trip to George's office had been Hell. The boss of _Fast Track Parcel Services_ had chewed him out for back-sassing him, then shoved the package into his hands and told him to get to 19  th  and Sloat a.s.a.p. to meet with the client, some guy called Kessler. Cole had half the brain to _not_ tell him to screw himself- George was paying his bills, after all- so he had begrudgingly accepted and rode his bike over to the Historic District. The package itself wasn't too large, but pretty heavy.

Cole's brain pounded against the inside of his skull, worsening his mood. He trod into the pedals faster, just wishing to finish this tour so he could get back home. Halfway over the Fremont Bridge, however, he realized that at the intersection of 19 th  and Sloat was no building. Where was he supposed to bring the package then?

He puzzled over the question for a while as he rode through the Historic District, until he decided that this Kessler person was probably waiting for him there. Maybe he could give him a piece of his mind along with the package.

Better not, though. Because the client was always king, so he could have him fired. Cole growled under his breath, and rushed past a traffic light that just switched to red. No time for stopping.

19 th  and Sloat- Cole kicked the brakes and his bike stopped with a screeching noise, startling a few people around. He got off and glanced around. Now, who could this Kessler person be?

He hoisted the package off the carrier and looked around once more, frowning at the people. Deciding to take his chances, he picked up his voice. “Fast Track Parcel Service!” He called out, “Uhm- I'm looking for somebody who wanted a delivery.”

Nobody bothered to acknowledge him, though, just continued on their way to do whatever so many people do at Sunday morning.

Cole tried it again. “Anybody? C'mon, I don't have all day.” His head hurt again, but he couldn't lose it now. So he turned to a woman in a pink dress. “Hey”

She glared at him as if he'd personally insulted her and her entire family. “Look, do you maybe have an idea who could have ordered this? I'm supposed to meet them here.”

“I don't”, she snapped at him. “Get lost.”

He blinked, and tried very hard not to snap. “Look”, he tried to reason. “This is the address they gave me. Name is Kessler.”

The woman scoffed. “And I'm telling you- you got the wrong address!” She stalked off, leaving Cole puzzled.

Looks like George gave him the wrong information. And that meant he would be too late. And that meant he would probably get fired for it.

A plethora of explicits and possible swears ran through his hungover hurting brain, and condensed into a single “Shit.”

His phone rang. Cole exhaled to curb in the possible tantrum that was building up and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“ _Is this Cole MacGrath?”_ Somebody asked. Cole shivered at the sound of the voice. It was a man, but he didn't know him. More even, he could probably disarm an entire army with his gritty voice. Still, he had to remain polite, even if he didn't really want to. “Who's this?”

“ _My name is Kessler”_ , the man explained, _“I believe you're holding a package for me.”_

Cole scowled at his phone. “Look, I have been here on time”, he explained, “It's not my fault the address is wrong.”

Kessler chuckled slightly, and it made Cole's back crawl. _“No. You are exactly where you should be.”_ Cole blinked. Then _where_ was he? Was this some sort of joke? _“Can you do me a favor and open the box?”_

Cole growled. The first most rule of his job was the _never_ open the package. “Why?” He snapped, “So you can get me fired? I don't think so.”

Kessler didn't miss a beat. _“I'll pay you five hundred dollars.”_

Cole paused. If that guy was telling the truth, then it would be grand. Five hundred bucks was a lot of money, after all. And all he had to do was to violate the first rule.

But then again, he never liked rules that much. He had a few run-ins with the law and cops already because of it. He scowled, but put the package down, pulling his box cutter from its pouch against his leg and carefully sliced the duct tape open. To his surprise, there was a metallic orb inside. He wondered about it. Was it a bowling ball? Maybe some piece of modern art?

He frowned for a moment before he scowled at the unseen client. “If you don't pay up, I'll kick your-”

Kessler cut him off. _“See you soon, Cole”_ Cole froze. Why the Hell did this sound so ominous?

And then the orb suddenly flashed brightly. He jerked back, hit the floor and tried to scramble away from the bright shine.

He was too slow. Within moments, the light swallowed everything around. Cole was sure he was screaming, because then there was only a white-hot pain.

And then nothing.

 


	3. Genesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gets really, really tired of being blown up. Plus Dana could have died, you know?

** Genesis **

 

Alex was watching the people around, while Dana was trying to talk to the vendor into giving her two Hot Dogs. It was so...domestic. So  _normal.  
_ He didn't like this idle life one bit. He was a weapon, he craved action, he craved something to stave off the boredom.

He knew whatever he wished for was not what Dana deserved or wanted, but he couldn't help it. Hunting for criminals only gave him so much exercise, and it became old very fast. Also, the longer nothing happened, the more and more his natural paranoia was beginning to root deep into his subconsciousness. The guy over there, with the sunglasses? Was he just a jerk in flashy clothes or was he a Blackwatch sleeper agent? One that found them?

He shuffled his feet and huffed out, tearing his attention away from the guy. No. He couldn't think like that. Cross said Blackwatch had no idea where they were, right?

Still, he glanced around, watching for eventual threats. So far, nobody looked suspicious. He also couldn't pick up the scent of gun oil or- God have mercy on whoever did- Bloodtox on the people that just passed by. He did get a few people with too much perfume, and some with pepper spray, but nothing immediately threatening.

“...!” He flinched slightly when a sausage was dangled in front of his face. Dana held a bun with onions and another sausage, offering a Hot Dog without a bun to him with her free hand. He didn't like bread for some reason, though it was all Biomass in the end.

“I know there's some weird shit in it”, she explained, “But it's good. You can try it.”

Alex glanced at her before he took the thing. Dana smiled, and nodded to the vendor before they walked to the side and plopped down on a park bench, eating in silence.

“It's a nice day, isn't it?” Dana asked around a mouthful of onions and processed meat. Alex snorted in reply, chewing carefully. Though he had to admit, that it was indeed a 'nice' day. The sun was shining, birds were tweeting, children were playing in the park nearby, parents were around, people chatted. It was incredible how Dana's mere presence managed to banish his paranoia and made him see things like normal people did. 

He liked that about her, and no matter what he thought about leading a domestic life, as long Dana wanted it, he was going to play along. When they sat together in their apartment, playing games or solving crossword puzzles, nothing really mattered. Not that they were on the run, not that nobody asides from them knew their real names or real faces, not that one of them was a thing that shouldn't even exist, not that they weren't actually siblings- they were just Alex and Dana, who were doing mundane every-day things.

He glanced at the neon signs around, the cars driving past, the few street artists doing their thing, and couldn't help but remember Manhattan. Empire's buildings weren't as tall as most of Manhattan's had been, but the amount of billboards and advertisements was roughly the same. The Neon was probably his favorite district, mostly because it was so much like Manhattan, just without the entire infected mass covering most of it. It reminded him of the first three days, after he woke up in that morgue and before he freed Greene- the time he would just run through the city to explore his new abilities and enjoy the freedom they brought. It had been the happiest time he had. Before he realized the truth. Before Blackwatch hunted him like a rabid animal, before all the fast-paced battles for survival, before he slaughtered scores upon scores of enemies.

His body flinched, making him jerk upright. His eyes narrowed.

Something was not right. Not. At. All.

The air shook, drawing an enrage growl from him, seconds before a shockwave raced overhead. Every electrical appliance around fizzled out in a glorious amount of sparks rushing across their frames. Dana had jumped to her feet, Hot Dog dropping to the floor.

“What- what's going on?!”

A deafening explosion drowned out every sound around them. People started screaming, Dana backed away fearfully.

But Alex only stared at the dome of light that rose into the sky. Nononono. Not again. His brain lurched. Not this again.

He remembered the last blast. When Blackwatch's nuke exploded behind him and tore him to pieces.

He could survive it. He had done so before- but  _Dana_ couldn't.

Burning debris rained down around them in a nightmarish display. The dome collapsed into a massive field of sparking electricity. Alex didn't take any chances.

He whirled around, shifting back into his usual appearance, ignoring the people's outcries around them. He lunged at Dana, arms wrapping around her to lift her up.

The ground shook with tremors when the explosion tore through the gas lines.

Alex ran.

The asphalt beneath caved in under his feet, but the light was too close. Fire was raining down all around them, hitting people and the area around them and rendering them to nothing more than ashes.

Dana screamed, he swore. He threw his body to the side, avoiding the burning remains of a bus that crashed into the ground in front of them, and continued to race towards the closest building. He had to get  _away_ . 

Behind him, the dome of light and electricity began to grow again, swallowing up whatever was in its way.

Alex snarled, thousands of survival ideas rushing through his mind as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, trying to get as much distance between Dana and the explosion as he could manage. All of the ideas that flashed into his brain were perfect for  _him_ to survive, but Dana was not like him. He couldn't leave her behind.

He threw a glance over his shoulder, realizing with a start that the dome was  _too_ close. No matter how fast he was, he could not outrun  _this_ . 

Screw this. Alex leapt off the roof he was on and headed downwards. There was a quadrangle in front of him, encased by tall apartment buildings. He hit the ground hard, then hurried into the driveway that allowed access to the courtyard.

Dana made a startled noise when Alex pressed her closer to his body, and crouched low. Alex hissed, pushing her against a wall. His Biomass twisted and flared out, changing into massive chitinous plates that grew from his back.

“Alex?!” Dana screamed before the plates closed them off from the area around them and dropped them both into total darkness.

The explosion shockwave reached the apartment complex and tore it to pieces. Alex snarled against the white-hot pain that raced through his body when the outer layers of his shell were eaten away, forcing him to regenerate them and increase the density and toughness of those beneath.

The entire world was drowned out in a wordless roar of superheated air, static crackle and white light.

* * *

 

“ _Activation plus six minutes. Pulse is forty-five. Respiration is ten. Looking good, Cole.”_

His body  _hurt_ . Hell, hurting wasn't even close to describe it- it was pure agony that raced through his system. But it was the only thing he could feel, neither his legs nor his arms seemed to be present. Hell, he couldn't be sure he had a throat at the moment.

He could hear, though. Heard the screams of thousands of dying people.

_What had happened? What was going on?_

His limbs felt like lead and his head threatened to crack open. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep it all off- but somehow he knew he shouldn't.

He knew he had to get up. He had to get away.

Cole's body jerked once, and he took his first breath in what felt like an eternity.

His lungs burned, his nose picked up only the smell of burnt flesh- but he was  _alive_ . With a start, his eyes flew open. The agony flared back up, rushing into his toes and fingers like a static burn, so he squeezed his eyes shut again.

“What the Hell happened?” He groaned. His body was screaming in protest as he struggled, trying to find some semblance of balance. His clothes chaffed against his skin, tearing it open with every movement. He didn't know what had transpired, or why he was in so much pain.

Eventually, however, he managed to stand upright. His insides sloshed around as if he was drunk, but he remained in that position.

Then, he took notice of his surroundings and his eyes widened in horror. “Oh God...”

He had been in the Historic District. Now he was in what looked like Hell. The sky was red from the ash and smoke, buildings all around had either been completely flattened, or were damaged and burnt-out shells of what they've been.

Cole saw cars, half-melted into the ground, buses torn to pieces, remains of street lights scattered around. His bike was gone, too, torn to pieces.

The asphalt beneath him was badly cracked and shredded, but it was still, ironically, the only piece of street that was still noticeably a  _street_ . 

Everything else was burning. More even, much of his immediate surrounding had  _melted._ It wasn't so much asphalt and stone, it was glowing  _lava_ in some parts. Fires were still burning, sending plumes of foul black smoke into the dark sky. Cole swallowed, finally becoming aware of the raging heat that enveloped him. His skin felt brittle, every movement he did ripped it open, sending new shocks of pain racing through his system.

He had to get away.

“ _Someone alive down there?”_ Somebody asked. Cole was unable to turn, but he heard the sound of engines roaring above him, identifying itself as a helicopter.

“ _Hey!”_ The pilot must've noticed him. _“If you can walk, head to the bridge!”_ The helicopter pulled to the side, searchlight moving across a building to Cole's far left. _“Hey, you there! In the garage!”_ So there were others, huh? _“Get out of there! Whole thing is coming down!”_

Cole groaned as he watched a car tip over the side and fall into the inferno below, turning into a fireball when its gas ignited. Then he realized that he didn't see anybody else. He was alone here.

_Shouldn't there be more around? Or, in the very least, bodies?_

No, he couldn't take care of that. He had to get away.

“Come on Cole, move”, He grunted, taking an agonizing step to the front. He nearly toppled from the effort. “Move” He took another step, this time a jolt of pain raced up his leg, but he managed to keep his balance. The piece of street he was on sloped downwards, ground having caved in beneath the remaining area. A broken high voltage cable sparked dangerously as he passed, so Cole jerked to the side, just in time to end up too close to the exploding remains of a car. 

The shockwave threw him flat on his back, making his ears ring.  _Ow._

He couldn't remain here. It was too dangerous.

Cole grunted and struggled to his feet, then hastily limped along the only solid ground inside the inferno. Another explosion rocked the area, but it was luckily far away from him. He still felt the superheated air rush over his body, and forced himself to move faster. His leg felt like it was on fire every time he tried to move it, but for the time being, he couldn't really pay any attention to it. He hurried along, hissing in pain from the hot air at every breath he took. His phone chimed. Of course, everything went to shit, but that thing survived.

“ _Cole!”_ Zeke. He sounded worried. _“Cole, man! You there?! Pick up!”_

“Zek?” Cole ground out as soon he switched it on, gasping in pain when he headed up a makeshift ramp made of the collapsed remains of a building that crushed a bus beneath. “What the Hell is going on?” He hissed, dragging himself to the top of the slope. “I-I think there was an explosion.” _No shit, Sherlock._ The bus ended, forcing him to drop down on top of a wrecked car. The motion shot through his body in a wave of agony, but it didn't drop him. Good.

“ _No shit there was an explosion!”_ Zeke yelled, _“TV says terrorists are blowing stuff up all over the city!”_ Terrorists. America's favorite word since the whole shit started in September ten years ago. Crap. Cole groaned and focused on staying upright. His leg was still hurting, but somehow he had managed to pick up some speed to get some distance between himself and the inferno.

“ _Meet me at the Fremont Bridge”_ , Zeke said, _“We'll get Trish and find someplace to hunker down.”_

Trish! Hopefully she was okay. Cole moaned in reply and limped up the ramp into the garage from before. It was dangerous, sure, but it was the shortest way to Fremont Bridge. He wouldn't want to test his luck in how far he could still move before he passed out.

A damaged array of electrical high-voltage outlets sat against the left wall. Cole grunted and was about to pass it, when the transformers exploded. A massive bolt of lightning hit him straight in the chest, violently electrocuting him. Cole screamed in pain and staggered back, but just as the bolt subsided, he was still standing. He blinked with wide eyes, staring at his hands as the last sparks still bounced off his body. “What the Hell?!” He gasped. “I should be dead?!”

He wasn't dead, and when he took another step, his leg wasn't hurting as bad anymore. Cole furrowed his brows, staring at the sparking remains of the outlet and shook his head. Whatever this was, he wasn't keen on repeating it.

He limped across the parking deck, eying the wall of fire at the furthest side and just barely noticed the hollow crash as a part of the ceiling gave in. With a swear, he flung himself to the side, avoiding an exploding police cruiser.

Okay, he had to get out of here. Not longer wasting any time, he hurried to the exit ramp, only for it to collapse before he could get near it.

Shit.

A massive pipe jutted out of the rubble, and after a quick glance, Cole realized that it lead across the gap. He turned towards it, grunting in exertion as he pulled himself up on it and made haste to cross it as the one besides it crumpled and broke away. This time, he was lucky, and the thing held beneath him, so he actually managed to get to the other side.

Small fortunes, eh?

Cole limped across the second half of the parking deck, panting in pain and exertion. He just wanted to give up and lie down, but he couldn't leave Trish or Zeke alone. He had to get back to them. To the Fremont Bridge.

He ground his teeth together and hobbled towards the broken end of the lot, hoping to find a way down.

Failing to notice a broken high voltage wire.

Just like the outlet before, a massive bolt of lightning slammed out of it and into him, frying every cell of his body. However, this time, some of the electricity bounced off him and arched out of his chest and arms, slamming into a pair of lamps and cars. The car alarm went off for several seconds, before it and the lamps exploded, causing a part of the deck to collapse and create a ramp.

“Whoa” Cole blinked in confusion. Okay, whatever _that_ just was, it just opened an escape route. But it had been a second lethal electrocution he survived, and- as he shifted his foot- seemingly repaired his injured leg some more. “What's happening to me?”

Damn it. He could figure that out later when he wasn't in lethal danger anymore. He grit his teeth and limped down the ramp, reaching the other side of the garage without any problems.

“ _If you're able to walk, please evacuate across the bridge to the Neon”_ , the emergency broadcast reminded him via loudspeaker. _“Remain calm, emergency personnel are en route.”_

Remain calm? That guy had it easy. He didn't get electrocuted twice. Cole groaned and quickly hurried towards the Fremont Bridge. It was strewn with debris and wrecked vehicles, but seemed to be in good condition at total.

Moaning filled his ears, drawing his attention to the many people sitting on the sidewalk. Police and ambulance were there, taking care of them to help them cross over to the Neon. An EMT noticed Cole and the state he was in, and hurried towards him. “Sir”, he called out, “Can you still walk?”

“I can”, Cole grunted, as if it wasn't obvious.

“Please hurry”, the man told him, “The bridge isn't passable for the cars anymore, but on foot it is still possible.”

“Thanks” He limped towards the ambulance and police cruisers that stood along the street.

“Cole!” He stopped and looked up, noticing Zeke standing on the sidewalk at the other side. “Over here man! We gotta go!” It was crazy how perfectly well he could hear him, even over the roar of blood in his own ears and the overall chaos. He grunted and was about to head over, when lightning snapped out of his body and slammed into the supports of the bridge on either side. Pain raced through Cole's entire body. “God, no!” His body was hurting so bad and lightning raced across his entire frame. “No! No!” He shouted, “Stop it!”

A massive lightning bolt hit the street on his left side, turning a police cruiser into little more than a burnt-out wreck. A second bolt slammed into the ground behind him, tearing a hole.

Bolts rained down all around him, tearing through metal, asphalt and people, frying everything.

“Oh no!” Zeke shouted in alarm. “It's the terrorists! Run for the bridge, Cole!”

Cole did. He was panicking, his heart slammed hard against his ribs and every intake of air hurt. He ran, tried to get away, but wherever he ran, the lightning was following him.

It was like a bad dream, like a nightmare- and he couldn't outrun it.

He saw in terror how the people on the bridge where hit and burnt to crisps within the blink of an eye. He saw in horror how more lightning arched around his arms before it snapped out, tearing metal to shreds.  _This couldn't be happening! This wasn't real!_

“Move your ass Cole!” Zeke yelled, “This whole bridge is coming down!” _No shitting_. He heard metal shriek as it burst, he saw the supports crack and shatter under the assault of the lightning. He noticed people die on this bridge, but he couldn't stop. He was afraid for his life, running across in panic. He didn't want to die, but he felt his body shutting down. The pain was too much, the injuries had opened again and his system collapsed.

With the last ounce of his strength, with the blood roaring in his ears and his world turning gray, he just barely managed to reach the other side. His injured leg finally snapped under his weight, sending him tumbling down. But he was on the other side, wasn't he? He had done it.

Zeke ran towards him, yelling something. There was Trish too, who rushed into his direction with a panicked expression. Cole whimpered softly, knowing that they were both okay. He tried to turn his attention on them, but he couldn't make out what they were saying, nor could he keep his eyes from slipping out of focus.

Ah. Didn't matter. He was so tired and could no longer care about what was happening. He heard the screaming in his head again, but he was too exhausted to do something about it. His eyes slipped close and his consciousness escaped into complete darkness.

* * *

 

It was dark. No light managed to get through to them. It wasn't a problem to  _him_ , but  _she_ was close to a full-blown panic attack. He felt it, felt her heart hammer against her ribs, even through their clothes. He could hear the sharp edge in her all too rapid breathing and the little whimpers she uttered.

It was frightfully easy to ignore, he'd heard and felt it all before. Even Dana wasn't so different from every other human alive. But because she was  _Dana_ , she deserved better.

Alex huffed out and slowly let his hold on her up, she responded with a pitched inhale of breath.

“I don't hear any tremors anymore”, Alex muttered, his voice low and hopefully soothing. “I think the explosion's over.”

“What was it anyways?” Dana asked with a slightly pitched voice, “A nuclear strike?”

“I don't think so.” He shook his head, unseen in the darkness that surrounded them. “It was hot, yes, but not hot enough.” He frowned, “Also, it was kind of _electrical_.”

“Maybe something of an EMP?” Dana suggested, squirming beneath him.

“Maybe, but it caused quite some destruction”, Alex replied, remembering what had happened before. He shifted his body in an attempt to remove the shell that covered them.

Above him, he heard tremors and the hollow crack of stone and mortar, but nothing moved.

“Alex?”

“Figures”, he grumbled annoyed, “I guess the building collapsed on us.”

“What?!” Dana's voice quickly changed to hysteria. Alex cringed at the volume, but remained calm. Unlike her. “Oh fuck!”

“Don't worry”, he said, “I could try to lift it.”

There was a heavy silence for some time, until Dana snorted. “Right. You can lift an entire building.”

Alex shrugged. “Should be possible”, he explained, “I have enough strength to pick up an A1 Abrams Tank and throw it over a distance of two hundred meters with enough force and speed to take down a flying Apache.” He grunted, placing both palms flat against the floor on either side of Dana. “A tank like that weighs around sixty tons. And the building will be mostly rubble too. Makes it easier to get out.”

He dug both knees into the ground, then shifted to the Musclemass, increasing his overall body strength.

He heaved against the massive weight on his back. Nothing happened at first. Alex snarled and pushed harder, until something cracked.

The building was shifting, even if only a little bit. But it wasn't enough.

He growled, then slammed both hands with a resounding  _crack_ deep into the floor, ignoring Dana's startled yelp, and focused. Channeling Biomass through the ground.

The rubble buckled and  _warped_ , groaning like a wounded animal, seconds before massive black spikes erupted all around the dark shell Alex had grown to protect himself and Dana. Rubble was crushed to the side, concrete was torn to pieces, the entire ground was dug up. Alex snarled again and heaved against the weight on his back as more spikes and tentacles snapped out of his body. He felt light-headed, a clear sign that he stretched his Biomass too far, but he wouldn't have to remain like this for very long. The wreck above them shifted. Alex threw his body back, shifting his mass throughout the entire net of tentacles and spike he had grown, before he finally stood up.

Lifting an entire building off the ground.

“Holy shit”, Dana gasped, craning her neck to see a tiny crack opening a bit to their left. “You can really do this!”

Alex grunted, then pushed his legs straight, pushing the rubble up even further. With the light now filtering in, the amount of Biomass weaved through the mess above became visible. With a mental command, Alex shifted his Biomass in a way that the wreck above slipped off on either side, rolling to the floor in a cacophony of breaking brick and mortar.

Dana gasped and held her breath from the dust whirling up, but when it finally settled, she and Alex sat in a small cleared space, surrounded by tons and tons of broken building all around them.

“Holy shit”, Dana gasped, “This is unreal!”

“Nothing about me is 'real'” Alex grunted with no small amount of self-satisfaction. He went to dust himself off, when Dana's terrified outcry stopped him. “HOLY FUCK!”

He lifted his head to see what she meant, only to be faced with the red sky and countless black smoke plumes. Unlike his sister, however, he met it with apathy. So what? Humans went to murder and bomb each other all the time, why should it bother him? If anything, it did bother him that it happened here, directly in Dana's vicinity and it could have gotten her killed.

“Shit”, Dana groaned, “What has happened?”

“Probably somebody trying to blame AlQuaeda or whatever 'evil' organization the government pulls out of its ass this time to wage even more war”, Alex shrugged. “Come. We should go. It's not safe here.”

Dana muttered something under her breath, but let Alex pull her away from the collapsed building.

But once they were outside, they had to realize that this was only the beginning of something big. Everything was destroyed. Hollowed-out wrecks of car littered the streets, lamp posts and trees had been snapped like twigs. Bodies littered the streets. They haven't been in the epicenter of the blast, but they had still been pretty close.

“Holy shit”, Dana gasped again. “Are you sure this wasn't nuclear?”

“Pretty sure.” Alex frowned at the cracked and melted ground a bit further away. He slowly moved towards the closest corpse, frowning at it. It used to be a man, but he couldn't tell what he died from. It could have been the severe burns, the inhalation of super-heated air, a heart attack...He knew how easy humans broke. He assumed that any closer to the center of the explosion, they would have literally turned to ash or evaporated through the intense heat.

“This can't be happening”, Dana moaned. “Oh fuck.”

Alex glanced at her worried. He walked back to her and placed one hand on her shoulder. “Dana. Whatever is going on- it has nothing to do with either of us. We were just unlucky.” Dana sniffed. Alex turned his head to look along the boulevard. “We have to get to a safe place. We need to lie low.”

“We can't”, Dana suddenly said, “Alex- something is going on. We need to figure out what.”

He was about to answer, when suddenly his back went ramrod straight. He whipped around, eyes narrowing on the helicopter that just headed towards them. He scowled, then quickly shifted into his disguised form, growling at the helicopter. If anybody saw him in his natural appearance near the scene of a seemingly act of terrorism, Blackwatch would be on them faster than they could blink. So he had no choice but to take another shape.

“ _If there is anybody here”_ , the voice from inside the helicopter claimed, _“Head to the Fremont Bridge. I repeat: Head to the Fremont Bridge to evacuate into the Neon! Help is en route!”_

“Come on. We worry about what happened later on”, Alex grunted, “We better hurry. The Neon should be safe enough. I'll go back and get our stuff from the apartment later on.”

Dana sniffled again, then nodded. “Okay. Let's get out of here.”

Alex turned and started to move along the destroyed city. The Fremont Bridge was close-by, but they couldn't waste any time gawking. They wasted enough time breaking out of the cave-in.

Foul black smoke formed massive walls in front of them. Dana gagged, while Alex subtly shifted his vision into the thermal range, watching for anything  _colder_ than the inferno. Only him and Dana, so he proceeded with breaking through the burning wreckages to clear a way for his sister. She was silent when following him, whimpering whenever they passed the remains of a person. Alex was worried for her. She tried to look tough, but she was just human. Not like him. She couldn't just look away from carnage, not like he could. To him, it was just natural, but to her it was horror. He slowed down to walk besides her, leaning into her side. Dana sobbed and reached her arm out, curling her fingers into his hair, silently thanking him for his support.

In a way, Alex suspected, they were lucky they just needed to pass along the shore of the Historic District and wouldn't have to walk through the center of the blast crater. He had seen the unnatural heat radiating off there, so he assumed that the insides of  _Ground Zero_ would look even more terrible than what they saw here. Too much for Dana to bear.

What she needed now was a safe place to lie low and recover from the shock of the explosion and his rather rough handling when he dragged her away. And maybe psychological help so she wouldn't develop claustrophobia atop of all things.

He flinched slightly at the sound of helicopters circling the area, reminding himself that Blackwatch wasn't here and those were civilian choppers, not military ones. Still, the latent urge to pick them out of the sky was still there, still thrumming at the back of his mind. He had learnt early on that helicopters were a bad sign, and this training never went away. A little bit like Pavlov's dogs, he thought.

From afar they could already see the lights of ambulance and police cars flash through the smoke and ashes. Alex nudged Dana gently. “Come. Almost there.” She nodded, and together they moved through the debris and towards the bridge. A few EMTs took notice of them, but once they realized that they seemed to be in good condition, they just told them to hurry and notify those at the other side.

They made it over the bridge, where an Ambulance driver called them closer. Dana went on to answer his questions, while Alex watched the bridge. He noticed an overweight man with slicked-back hair and sunglasses hurry to stand on the sidewalk, looking for something. Or someone. A woman was nearby, and Alex recognized her as a nurse who worked at the Bayview Hospital. He's seen her a few times when she was outside for a break during the night shift and he happened to pass by. She did remind him of Dana a little, so he usually stuck around to make sure nothing happened to her until she walked back inside.

“Cole!” The fat man shouted, waving his arms like mad. “Over here! We gotta go!”

Alex's attention snapped to the other side, where a badly burnt man appeared. He recognized the yellow-and-black jacket. It was the courier, the nurse's boyfriend.

But then, as the courier stepped on the bridge, lightning bolts smashed into the floor around him. Dana and the EMT both jerked back in shock, as did a lot of the people present. The fat man was yelling at the courier to hurry, and he did. But more lightning bolts began to obliterate the entire bridge, even as the man tried to cross it. They watched in horror as the burnt man just barely managed to reach the other side before collapsing, while everything and everybody else that had been on the bridge were rendered to ashes and dust.

“Holy Fuck!” Dana swore, ducking back. “What's going on?!”

Alex had no idea, but as the bridge began to break away and sink to the ground of the bay, he realized one thing. The lightning strikes hadn't started randomly- they have started when the courier stepped on the bridge- and they have ended when he fainted. And more even, much of the destructive energy that had obliterated everything around them  _originated_ from the man's own body.

His eyes narrowed.  _Interesting._

* * *

 

Amy was dead. Trish could only stare numbly at the torn picture in her hand while tears spilled across her cheeks.

Helpers had dragged her body from the remains of their apartment building the day before, and called her. Now, Trish couldn't even say good-bye. The Fremont Bridge was gone, the Stone Canal Bridge and the 19 th Street Drawbridge had both been raised by somebody. Nobody could cross over, trapping them in the districts they were in.

Worse even, nobody would let them go outside either- the Stampton Bridge had been closed off within hours after the blast. In one fell swoop, their lives had fallen into ruins.

The police was trying to keep the situation under control, but they were losing ground fast. Trish had never seen violence escalate that quickly. It was a nightmare for everybody included.

She sobbed once, and wiped her face with the back of her hand. Amy was dead, and Cole nearly too. She hoped she could help him. She couldn't lose him too.

He's been out cold ever since he collapsed at the Fremont Bridge two days ago. There had been barely a change about him, his pulse and respiration had been too low for her liking. But it was still there,  _he_ was still there, still fighting. She couldn't give up.

However, even if he survived, what would the price be? His leg was the least of her concerns- it had been broken, but a splint would suffice for it. His body however had been badly damaged, with vast amounts of second-and-third-degree burns covering most of him. When they removed his clothes, they had to remove skin too that had melted with the fabric from the sheer amount of heat of the explosion. If he lived, scars would remain. And, to make matters worse, he had broken out in a high fever, though his skin was almost ice-like to the touch. The clinic they were in was hilariously understocked for injuries like he had. But they couldn't transfer him into Bayview.

Trish sobbed again, gently lowering a wet cloth against his forehead to try to keep his temperature down. It was about the only thing she could do, because supplies were rapidly vanishing with the sheer amount of injured people requiring medical help. Nobody knew where that bomb had been, where it came from- or how many people were dead. Most of what had been in the center of the crater had quite literally evaporated, leaving nothing behind. Sometimes, they would find a tooth. If they were lucky.

The door was opened, revealing a tired-looking Zeke. He glanced at his best friend in silence, before he turned to her. “How's he doin'?” He asked.

Trish choked back a sob. “Still running a high fever.”

“Want me to try nine-one-one again?” Zeke offered.

Trish shook her head. “At this point, he's better off here”, she said. Not to mention they wouldn't even manage to get any other help. The Bayview was cut off from them. “Besides”, she added, “The streets are too dangerous.” That was one way to say it. With the lockdown, the lawless subjects have started taking over. And they were  _violent_ . Nights were dangerous, but even during the day there were many places one should not go.

Trish sobbed again and cradled Cole's head, crying silently against his cheek. She had been here in the clinic most of the time, but Zeke had told her that she was always welcome in their apartment.

Zeke shuffled his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you know?” He suddenly asked, “A year or so before he met you, Cole got hit by a truck.”

“I know”, she replied. She had heard that story before. On a tour he got hit by a drunk driver, but the truck wasn't going very fast and he was lucky enough to be flung away from it, so he ended with some minor bruises. “He told me.”

Zeke shook his head. “Nah. He only told you what he tells everyone. Makes it sound like it was no big deal.” He slowly stepped closer, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Truth is”, he continued, “He shoulda been killed.” Trish blinked away the tears, glancing at Zeke with a confused expression. That was the first time she heard that part of the story.

“The front of the truck hits him square in the chest”, Zeke continued, “Whips him around and then he rolls under the tires. Both of his legs get run over.” Trish's eyes widened. From her experience, she could tell the results of such an accident. But Zeke was telling the truth. She knew him well enough to figure out when he was exaggerating and when not- which was not at the moment.

Zeke shrugged one shoulder, while his fingers squeeze her shoulder in a reassuring manner. “I hear what happened and figure he's dead and buried.” He paused for a moment. “Or at the very least crippled.” He shook his head. “He wasn't. He spends the night in hospital for observation or whatever, but he walks out of there with nothing more than a couple of bruises the next day.” He nodded to the burns. “Compared to that, this is nothing. He'll be fine.”

Trish wasn't sure, but Zeke seemed to be so certain. She wished she had his optimism. Because she couldn't believe that Cole'd ever wake up again. Her tears were starting to flow stronger again, and she wrapped her arms around Zeke, crying into his shirt. “I love him so much”, she sobbed, “I don't-don't know what I'd do if--if-” She couldn't speak any further as her voice was drowned out by wordless crying. Zeke flinched slightly before he gently stroke her hair. “Don't worry about it”, he said, “Because it ain't gonna happen. He'll pull through, Trish. You wait and see.” Trish was crying only harder, and Zeke pulled her closer, just hugging her to tell her she was in good hands. He glanced at the still form of his best friend. “Just wait and see...”

* * *

 

Empire City was dying. Just like Manhattan had.

Alex stood atop the remains of the Stanton building, watching the still-smoldering fires. Three days later, and they were still burning.

He scowled deeply. Thousands had died, crushed by burning buildings or burnt alive. Hundreds more suddenly got sick and perished within a very short amount of time. Alex had first believed that Redlight was somehow still there, but it wasn't. He couldn't find a trace of disease. There was nothing that could jump from person to person, there was nothing that would infect them.

But the people didn't know this. They were afraid. And this fear quickly changed into violence. Riots broke out over the smallest disturbance. People stole. People murdered. People raped. Civilization was committing suicide.

He'd seen it before. He'd seen it in Manhattan. And Detroit. As soon something turns ugly, mankind's true face becomes obvious. Humans are selfish, caring only about themselves.

They will happily kick the one they had been friends with before into the fire to survive.

He couldn't understand how people-  _humans_ \- could do this to their own species. They, who were so far above their own instincts, who had the understanding, morale and ethics animals lacked. They should behave differently. They should stand together, help each other- but instead they tried to harm those weaker than themselves just to be better off.

He hated them, loathed the very idea of ever trying to be like them.

At times like those, he was actually  _glad_ he wasn't like them, wasn't  _human_ . He was an artificial predator, something unnatural- but they were the true monsters.

A gunshot broke the silence, making his head snap up. He knew those sounds. Assault rifles. He knew the bite of their bullets- had been bitten countless times.  
He knew they shouldn't be here either. He knew their make, and he knew those weren't meant for normal people to have.

Alex jumped off the building without looking for witnesses. It was dark anyways, and nobody was around  _Ground Zero_ anymore. He soared through the night sky, heading to where he'd heard the gunshot. 

He only found the body of a young woman, younger even than Dana. A single shot had taken out most of her skull. And brain. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to get memories from her anymore. The ashes and smoke clogged up his nose too, making it impossible for him to follow any scent.

He growled, glancing from the body into the direction the bullet would have flown to. He found it buried into a wall. A normal bullet, from an assault rifle.

Weapons even criminals were  _not_ supposed to have.

His lips peeled away from his teeth in a feral snarl. How could this be? How could they get such weapons? He had hunted them for so long already, and they never had anything bigger than a hunting rifle. But now?  _Where did those guns come from?_

He turned to glare to the south. To where the Stampton Bridge was.

Where the government sealed off the only escape route from the city. As soon the news of this 'plague' made its round, the people in charge sealed off Empire City. Sealed nearly ten million people inside without any help.

Locking them in with the criminals. The police was long gone by now, either too cowardly or dead already. Nobody was taking care of the people anymore.

This was too much like Manhattan. Too much.

But this time, there were no infected. No monsters bursting from corrupted flesh that grew from buildings, no Elizabeth Greene to control them. Now the only monsters that stalked the streets were the human ones.

And somebody supplied them with serious firepower, even through the lockdown.

Despite that, Dana had wrenched the promise from him to not do anything hasty. To not engage them. Not that he could- they vanished before he could get a reading on them, hiding in the sewers of the city where even his sense of smell could not find them.

However, with each passing hour, Alex found himself more and more tempted to tear through the city in attempts to stop them. Stop them like he did Greene.

But then Blackwatch would come here. And they would murder everybody.

Alex didn't give a shit about anybody in the city, but Dana was here too. For her sake, he had to lie low. Had to keep to the night time or those areas nobody paid him any attention. To prevent being seen.

He snarled and swung himself back upwards. He needed to maim something. Someone. Someone who deserved it.

Tonight, somebody was going to  _die_ .

* * *

 

Trish glanced out of the window worried. Chaos was reigning outside. Just four days, and Empire was no longer safe. Now it was a cesspool of violence. She didn't dare leave the clinic anymore, not without Zeke around. The night before, he told her, they have found several gang members on the streets. Dead. Really dead.

Someone had murdered them in a fit of rage. Trish had a good idea who it could have been- those gang members with the red hoodies were starting to turn into a real threat. Here in the Neon, anyways. She had no idea how it looked like in the other districts. The news were pretty much dead anyways, and she didn't know anybody over in the other districts who answered their phones. At least electricity and water were still working- or else Empire would have collapsed almost instantly.

Zeke was present most of the time, sitting with her and Cole for the entire day, working on his laptop, telling her the names of missed or dead people. Too many people had been lost. Too many good people, even seeing some who she believed to be dead barely managed to raise her spirits. She'd seen Billy from the EMTs, Christine, Ned the janitor and a few others from the Historic. Those that had managed to escape the district.

But too many had been injured, and they needed help.

She glanced at Cole's figure in the bed with furrowed brows.

It should have been impossible, but within those four days he'd been in coma, his wounds had healed. Not just healed- they were  _gone_ . The burns had vanished, leaving unmarked skin behind. His broken leg had knitted itself back together. Zeke had told her he survived being hit by a truck with nothing more than a few bruises- and she started to believe it.

At any rate- Cole's body was fully repaired again, as if he'd never been in that explosion that killed Amy.

Zeke sighed and stretched his body. “Hey”, he said, “It's gettin' late. Let's go home.”

Trish tore her gaze away from her comatose boyfriend and nodded wordlessly.  _Home_ was no longer in the Historic- it was now here in the Neon. Zeke had offered her to stay with him in his apartment, had even wordlessly given her his room to sleep in. Trish had declined, however, and taken to sleep on the couch, unwilling to intrude into their territory any more than she already did (even when Zeke claimed it was no big deal, and she was part of the family anyways).

She glanced back at Cole, watched how his chest rose and fell.

In, out

In, out

In, out

In,  _in_ , out.

Trish froze at the irregularity. Cole's hand twitched. He groaned. She was back at his side immediately. “Cole? Cole!”

Cole groaned again, this time louder that even Zeke noticed it, so he hurried back over as well.

“Can you hear me?”

Cole twitched, grunted as if in pain.

And suddenly the heart monitor flat-lined, just in time for Cole to jerk upright with a hoarse shout. His hands flew against his temples, clawing at them in panic.

The heart monitor beeped, before it fizzled out. The lights flickered, just as Cole held one hand in front of his face, staring at it.

Sparks flickered across his skin, seconds before lightning arched from his fingers over his arm, making him flinch back in panic. Trish and Zeke both jumped away when Cole's other arm started sparking as well. Lightning rushed all over his body as he flailed, trying to escape it.

He couldn't get away from it, but the static electricity was starting to wane slightly. Cole's hands shook when he carefully held them to the front, watching how the lightning bounced off his skin and arched between his hands.

He blinked, turning confused and terrified eyes to her and Zeke. “Trish?” He asked and his voice was rough from not using it. “What's happening to me?”

 


	4. First Glimpse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Electrical Powers. Awesome!  
> Just need to figure out how to use them.

** First Glimpse **

 

“Trish? What's happening to me?” Trish didn't know- and it scared Cole. Because Trish was the smartest out of the three, and she always knew what was going on. But now she didn't and Cole was left alone with this new...side of him.

Whatever it was- it had allowed him to survive injuries any other would have perished from, it even healed him. Physically, he was completely fine, so the clinic's doctors released him. Trish volunteered to keep an eye on him, though she said she had no idea what was actually going on.

So they returned to their apartment, to their safehouse, as Zeke put it. Cole felt mentally drained, wasn't sure what was going on- but he knew that something was going to happen. This couldn't be a coincidence- the explosion and his abilities.

He remembered having been called by their client- this  _Kessler_ guy, and then...nothing. He could barely remember getting over Fremont Bridge.

The bridge- he swallowed hard- the bridge  _he_ destroyed. Or better- his powers destroyed. He couldn't remember much, but he knew he had been afraid as the lightning came down all around him.

That hadn't been some terrorists, that was  _him_ .  _He_ destroyed an entire bridge with his new powers. He had seen people die there. So he had killed hundreds. On accident.

He groaned and buried his face in his hands. He had murdered a whole lot of people. Sure, he couldn't be blamed for it- he had no control over these powers- but it didn't change the fact that a lot of people died because of him.

It would also mean that the blast was  _only_ because of it. Shit.  
Cole remembered having opened that package, and the thing went up in his face. Everything had been melted, yet he managed to walk out of it with just some burns.

That hadn't been a coincidence. No. Somebody  _wanted_ him to get these powers, sacrificing thousands in the progress.

_Kessler_ . He was the only one, but what the ever-loving Hell did he gain from it? Why him?

Damnit. Cole was certain that it was this weird orb thing that had caused the explosion- but  _he_ had been the one to carry it,  _he_ opened the package- and  _he_ also got some sort of powers while everybody else had died. That did look suspicious.

And it meant that Zeke and Trish could not learn of it. It wasn't his fault this happened, but would they see it the same way he did? He would need more information before he could tell them.

Kessler was his best lead.

“Zek?” He called out. Zeke's head snapped up. “Yeah?”

“You have contacts. Can you find something about a guy named _Kessler_?”

Zeke blinked. “Why?”

“He was the last guy to get into contact with me. He sounded pretty cryptic, but I'm sure it had something to do with...” He lifted his hand, focusing to create a few sparks “About this _X-men_ stuff happening to me.”

Zeke's mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally managed to speak. “So...does it hurt when you switch  _that_ on?”

Cole frowned. Did it hurt? “No. Not really.” He created another bolt of lightning in his other hand. “Kinda tickles though. It's not bad...just really weird.”

Zeke lowered his glasses to peek at him over their rim. “And that's it? No feelings of  _Sith_ theatricals?”

“No.”

“Good. Because if you start monologuing, I'm outta here.”

“Kessler, Zeke”, Cole reminded him. He was about to turn and head back to the couch, when he paused and glanced at the closed door to his room. “Uh...I think I'm going to look after Trish”

“Yeah. Do that, man. She hasn't been herself since- you know.”

Since Amy died. Cole sighed. Another victim because of him. He hoped she didn't had to suffer. Hell, he hoped that Trish wouldn't think of doing anything stupid. He hadn't been around for very long since the blast, but Zeke had told him everything.

He stopped in front of his door (now Trish's room because he insisted she'd sleep in a real bed and not that stupid moth-eaten couch) and rapped his knuckled against the wood. He didn't wait for her to reply, but rather opened the door and stepped half inside, clearing his throat.

Trish looked up at him from the bed, eyes bloodshot and hair tousled. She held the torn picture in her hand, while having both arms wrapped around her knees in an attempt to make herself as small as possible. At this point, Cole decided that he did not like desolate Trish. He slowly made his way over to the bed and carefully sat down besides her, noticing with a pang how she inched away from him.

“You're scared”, he noticed. “Because of those...powers?” She didn't reply, which made him furrow his brows. “Look Trish- I'm still the same. I'm still Cole. Yes- something happened, but it didn't change _me_.”

“I know”, Trish whispered. She glanced at him, and he realized that she must have cried a lot. “I know you weren't the one to cause it- but I am still _scared_. There are things I don't understand, and things I do understand.” She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “You could be dead, Cole. Just like Amy.”

He exhaled slowly, casting his eyes down. “I'm sorry I worried you”, he muttered.

“Worried?” Trish shook her head. “That's not even enough. I was terrified when that explosion rattled the whole city, knowing you're out there somewhere. And then you quite literally crawled towards us with the last ounce of your strength before you went comatose. I have never been more afraid in my life.” She sniffed again. “And then, when I was told about Amy- about her death- all I had left was you. And you were _dying_ , Cole.”

He responded by putting an arm around her shoulders. She whimpered slightly from the contact before she settled down. “I don't know what I would have done if you had died too. I just-just love you so much.”

“I won't leave you”, Cole muttered. “Never. No matter what happens. And I will also never let anything happen to you.” He smiled at her. “Because you are my whole world.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Trish unclenched her frame slightly, leaning against him. “You smell”, she finally mumbled.

Cole chuckled. “Guess I do. I'll go grab a shower.” He paused, then winked at her. “Unless you want to join?”

Trish punched his shoulder with a lopsided grin. “No. Get out of here, MacGrath.”

Cole got up and walked to the door, but stopped and looked back at her. “I like you much better when you smile.”

He collected a fresh track suit, then moved to the bathroom, took off his clothes and dropped them into the hamper. He stepped under the shower and turned on the water.

* * *

 

“GAAAAAGH!!”

A loud scream broke the silence, making Zeke and Trish jump up startled. The lights in their apartment fizzled off when the fuses blew out and there was a loud crash coming from the bathroom. “What was that?!” Zeke yelled.

“Cole!” Trish realized with a panicked voice. “Something's wrong!”

“Look after him!” Zeke ordered, jumping off the couch, “I'll check the fuse box, then I'll come too!”

Trish had already stormed off. Zeke swore and dashed towards the kitchenette, where the fuse box was. He swung the hatch open. The protection had worked and switched off the electricity, throwing their apartment into darkness. He grunted and flipped the levers, and the light fizzled back into life.

He slammed the hatch shut, then rushed into the direction of the bathroom. He nearly bumped into Trish, who stood in the doorway. She was frozen in shock, as was Cole.

Zeke blinked for a few seconds to take in the situation before him, before he doubled over laughing. In an instant, Trish and Cole both threw him a dirty look. But he couldn't help it. This was just too good.

The shower was running and in the corner furthest away from it stood a butt-naked Cole, pressed against the wall to get as much distance between himself and the plumbing as somehow possible. His skin was wet and there were sparks crawling frantically over his body. He also had a wonderful mixture of confusion, panic and utter disbelief on his face as he tried to comprehend what had happened. And Trish had gotten a free show on top. Of course this was funny as Hell.

“What's so funny?” Cole scowled, inching sideways to grab a towel to preserve what little modesty he had left.

“Sorry man- this is just-” Zeke cut himself off with a snicker, “What happened, man?”

“Tried to take a shower”, Cole growled unhappily, “And suddenly _zap_. I jumped right out.”

Zeke giggled. “Oh man. But you could maybe have thought about this.” His face split in a wide grin. “What happens when you drop a toaster into water?”

Cole blinked, before he slapped his palm into his face with a groan. “Hell!”

“You just blew our fuses, too”, Zeke added. He nudged Trish with his shoulder. “Looks like no more sexy shower time for you lovebirds, huh?”

Trish blinked in confusion until it settled in. Once it did, her eyes watered up and she collapsed against the door frame, laughing heartily. Zeke grinned wider. “There. Now she's happy again- and all she needed was to see you stripped and ridiculed.” He paused, grin widening. “Hey, let's do it again!”

Cole's confusion melted into a scowl. “You are a dead man, Dunbar!” He roared, diving at his best friend. Zeke immediately ran away, heading towards the kitchenette to crank open the water tap and splatter water into his direction. As predicted, Cole dodged away from the sprays, shouting profanities all the while (losing his towel in the process, but not noticing it). Trish choked because she got no air anymore, nor could she remain standing.

But she was laughing again. And that made it all worth it.

* * *

 

Empire City was turning more and more dangerous. Gangs started to take over the Districts- or they did in the Neon, at least. But if it looked like this here, then Cole held no illusions that it was any different in the other two districts.

And worse even, the gang that started to get a hold on the Neon was near unstoppable. Pretty much every cop had been killed by a militaristic looking unit of thugs. They called themselves the  _Reapers_ , and were not only dangerous, but also plentiful. Easily recognized by their red hoodies and their wordless snarls, these guys would swoop in and take the supply drops the government sent the city by force. Nobody dared to stand in their way- if they appeared, you better hauled ass. Cole had heard of people disappear- taken by the Reapers. They were never heard of again.

He was scared, not for himself, but for Trish and Zeke.

On top of that, he had some sort of unstable powers going on that did make some things in life weird or awkward. He wasn't sure what to do with them, or what they could do.

Trying to figure them out, he started with exploring his own boundaries. Water had been a shock, and a big problem. Initially.

Cole had quickly discovered that a light spray, or even a little bit of rain barely harmed him. He was perfectly fine with using a rag to wash himself or taking a very quick shower. However, he soon realized through trial and error that the more water he got into contact with, the more his own powers started to affect him, frying him from the inside. He had tried it out- two days after that shower incident, by jumping into the Smith Fountain.

That...had gone over as well as a house on fire. He was just lucky Trish and Zeke had been nearby to rescue him from his self-experiment. After that, they both chewed him out as they dragged his sorry ass back to their apartment, Cole, being weakened from his stunt, offered no resistance. In the end, he had to promise them to never step into any body of water deeper than the length of his shins.

Electrical appliances were another problem. His phone, having shorted out when he collapsed, had been repaired by Zeke. However, this one fizzled out almost immediately as it got into his range, forcing Zeke to fix it again- and make it surge resistant. He also wasn't allowed near the TV anymore, or the microwave, or the gaming station. When he got upset, the lights would flicker.

But that didn't mean he was put off. He was determined to learn as much as he could about those powers. Light bulbs would light up when he only held them, and machines of all kind jumped to life when he merely touched them. If he focused, he could summon electricity into his hand and just aim it at a target, creating a lightning bolt he could zap things with. And the more he practiced it, the more he could fire before he was exhausted and needed to rest for a little while.

Trish assumed that the lightning was triggered by his overall state of emotion, the angrier he became, the stronger they were. But just exactly  _how_ they worked, she couldn't tell. At any rate, she doubted it was anything like electric eels did, since Cole was also able to literally  _sense_ other people and sources of electricity around.

Today, Cole and Zeke were on the way to a friend of Zeke's. The Reapers had gotten too bold, had tried to attack their safehouse, but they managed to drive them off with a mixture of throwing stuff at them (Zeke) or flashing some lightning until the guys ran away startled (Cole). But after that it became clear that they would need to arm themselves.

So Zeke pulled a few favors and set up a meeting with a friend in the Smith Park near the Smith Fountain. Cole noticed the dark smudges at the sculpture in the middle of it and grimaced. Jumping into the fountain without proper care had been pretty stupid, admittedly, and the scorch marks where his lightning had hit when he almost literally exploded in a shower of wild sparks were a silent warning.

With a shudder, he trailed after Zeke to meet his friend who was sitting on a terrace. Cole recognized him as Ned. Ned was a nice guy, better than Dwight, at any rate, but he was Zeke's friend, not his. So he couldn't say all too much about him.

Ned looked up when they approached. “Hey” He greeted. “So, you've come here to check my wares, right?”

“Yeah. We gotta be able to defend ourselves”, Zeke explained. Cole sat down on the low wall at the edge of the terrace. “Cole's a good shot. We need something for him to blow Reapers away.”

“That true?” Ned asked.

Cole shrugged. “I used to go hunting with my dad and brother”, he said, “So I can use a gun.”

“Cool.” Ned reached into his pocket and pulled out a Magnum .375, while Zeke handed some of his homemade electronics over. Cole frowned. “Uh, just so we're clear- One a scale of one to ten, how illegal is what we are doing here?”

“Not higher than three”, Zeke claimed, “Chill, bro. Empire's going down and I see no cops. Do you?”

“Nah. Just wondering.” Cole shrugged. “I promised Trish I won't do anything with a scale of six or above- you do know my track record.”

“So we cool?” Ned question.

“Yup”, Cole replied.

“Lemme see the goods”, Zeke asked. Ned handed him the gun. Zeke quickly checked it over, scanning for damage or anything of the like until he was satisfied. Only then he gave it to Cole.

Cole eyed it, flipped it over and cocked the hammer. “Nice”, he said.

“Okay, so it's a deal”, Zeke grinned, turning to Ned. “You always have the best toys.”

Cole eyed the gun. They would need it to defend themselves against the Reapers. Life had started to become tough- supplies were getting scarce with only the government dropping in food and necessities from planes now and then. But most of those drops where taken by the Reapers. Now they could at least defend themselves if they got there before them.

He paused, sniffing. Something smelled...like hot metal.

With a start, he glanced down at the Magnum in his hand. There were sparks running over the metal, sparks that crept out of his skin.

“Oh.” Cole blinked. “Uh-Zek?” The gun began heating up. Inductive heat, his college studies said. Cole swore and was about to drop the weapon when it exploded in his hand with a loud _boom_. The courier flailed back, shielding his face with one arm and realizing too late that there was a drop behind him.

He couldn't balance himself fast enough before he tumbled nine feet down, smacking head-first into a park bench and breaking it.

“Shit! Cole!” Zeke yelled, rushing towards the stairs, “Cole man, everythin' alright?!”

Cole groaned and rubbed his head. The bench was in splinters and the way he fell- he should be concussed in the least.

He wasn't.

“I'm okay”, he called out, as Zeke and Ned reached him. “Nothing broken. Nothing hurts.” He frowned. “That should have hurt, but it didn't.”

Zeke gasped. “Shit Cole- your hand!”

“What?” Cole frowned and lifted his hand. He blinked, them grimaced. “Ow”, he muttered. The exploding gun had driven shrapnel into his skin, one finger looked broken and his entire palm was covered in blood.

It didn't hurt too much though.

And then, suddenly, lightning rushed over his arm. Cole, Zeke and Ned watched in silent morbid curiosity how the bleeding wounds started to knit themselves together, broken flesh mending and pushing out the metal debris. There was a hollow  _crack_ and a pained wince from Cole when his broken finger snapped back into position and healed up.

The three stared at the hand for some minutes longer before Cole looked up at his best friend. “Guess I really am a  _X-man._ ”

* * *

 

Fourteen days. Empire City was still dying. Gangs had taken over- taken over the life of the people. Dana looked pale and overworked, but she was unwilling to give up. She tried to help the sick people, those injured by the criminals, even at the cost of her own well-being.

Alex was trying to help too- by hunting and devouring the scum whenever he met them. He had quickly realized that this wouldn't work the way he usually worked, he couldn't just chew his way through the chain of command.

Something was wrong with the Reapers.

Their brains were more like those of drug addicts, with massive holes in their memories and lack of coordination. But there hadn't been that many addicted before the blast, not to mention that all drugs should have been used up already- and yet, many of the Reapers he consumed used to be ordinary people before the blast.

Alex had been killing civilians left and right- civilians that had something in their blood that turned them into mindless drones.

Elizabeth Greene came to mind, and it left a bad taste in his mouth. But those people hadn't been infected with any sort of virus. No, what he found looked more like  _tar_ . An organic kind of tar that corroded their brains to the point that all higher brain functions had stopped, leaving the Reapers no more than rabid animals. The first few times he consumed one of them the tar had started to eat away his Biomass too, but he had long since become resistant to the stuff- unlike the people. Putting them down was the best thing for them, yet he wondered whether there was a cure for those that weren't as affected.

But something was directing them, turning a bunch of brainless beasts into a highly efficient guerrilla army.

And worse, they were actively targeting the clinics around the Neon, looking for easy prey to take- what for, he couldn't say, though he did assume to turn them into more Reapers. Alex had kept busy the last days, always rushing from one clinic to another and taking out the Reapers there. When it wasn't any longer enough to just do it during the night, he was forced to shift his focus to the day as well. He was adaptable after all, and careful enough to not appear in his usual appearance. While his face and body were the still his original one, he had long stopped 'wearing' his leather jacket and hoodie during the day, opting to run around with only his shirt. During the day, and often during the night as well, he also usually used the Reaper's own assault rifles to take them out and hide his tracks, and he had piled together quite an armory for the Neon's vigilantes who were supposed to hold the areas he already cleared of Reapers.

It was an uphill struggle, because as soon he was at the other end of the district, the Reapers would push the defenders back, forcing him to return and take them out once more. Luckily, most people didn't seem to realize that he was moving throughout the whole district in a startlingly short amount of time.

It was...exhilarating, for sure, but he was afraid what'll happen if somebody managed to get a closer look at him. What would happen if they finally send in the Marines to clean up the city? One of them  _was_ going to recognize him sooner or later, and that meant that they'll be up to their necks in Blackwatch troopers. Alex wanted nothing more than to take Dana, get her out of the city and start new, but Dana denied. She wanted to stay, wanted to help the people and figure out what the fuck was going on before she would turn her back on them.

So Alex stayed in the Neon, only rarely heading into the other districts to check up on the other two gangs there- the  _Dustmen_ and the  _First Sons_ . Both groups Alex didn't know much about- yet. As soon he had the Reapers subdued, he would take a good close look at them too, though. He glanced over towards the Warren, where a massive tower of junk metal was growing skywards. Maybe he should pay the Dustmen a visit first. They looked like the larger problem.

A cargo plane roared past overhead, though Alex only glanced at it indifferently. Cargo planes weren't dangerous to him, and during the past two weeks they'd been quite frequently in the sky. It looked like it was time for supplies again.

His phone chimed, making him flinch slightly. He frowned at it. Dana had given it to him so they'll be in contact, but it sat unpleasantly in his Biomass now and its fucking ring tone startled him every time. He answered it. “Yeah?”

“ _Hey Alex?”_

“Who else?”

“ _The TV Jacker just made a broadcast.”_

“Let me guess- there's a supply drop?”

“ _How do you- Oh. I guess you've seen the plane, huh?”_

“Yeah. Just flew overhead.”

“ _Okay. There's a drop supposed to be at the Archer Square. Can you head over there and get one of the crates? We're running low on food here in the clinic.”_

“I will.”

“ _Great! But remember: Only one. There are more hungry people around.”_

“Don't worry. You guys can deal with your own safety?”

“ _Yeah. Those fucktard hoodie bastards will swarm to the drop zone anyways.”_

Alex frowned. “Fucktard Hoodie Bastards?”

Dana giggled.  _“Don't tell me you like them stealing your style.”_

“Huh.” He paused. “Never looked at it that way.”

“ _Now go before they pick up all the food.”_

Alex huffed out and put his phone back into his Biomass, then turned and jumped to the roof of a low building, pushed off and soared through the sky to head to the Archer Square.

* * *

 

It was in the morning hours when Cole headed up to the roof. He had made sure Trish had gotten to work at the clinic safely before he returned. They hadn't made any plans for today, so he just wanted to see what Zeke was doing.

He found his best friend stretched out on the couch, reading a book.

Cole frowned. “I thought you were going to watch TV?”

Zeke lowered his book and glanced at him. “Eh. Batteries are dead again.” He paused, then arched an eyebrow. “You mind puttin' on the freak show?”

Cole shrugged, creating arching lightning around his forearm. “Sure. Glad it's good for something.” He didn't mind being called names by Zeke. Except for Trish, nobody else knew about his powers and he didn't fancy them knowing. But that also meant he didn't really know what to do with them. All he used them for was to recharge Zeke's batteries to keep his roof television running. Energy had been rationed, could only be used for the most important things. Most people had generators on their roofs too, but Zeke had a mobile generator for a best friend.

“I guess-” He drawled out, “I have to charge them all, haven't I?”

“Yup”, Zeke grinned, “TV's a hog.” _Yeah. Not only the TV._ Cole thought with a glance at his best friend's stomach. They were just glad his own requirement of food had decreased ever since he got his powers, or else Zeke would have to actually go on a _diet_. He started zapping the batteries, listening to Zeke's enthusiastic whooping. “Good job man! Boob tube's working!” Sure. That's all he was worried about. But this _was_ Zeke. 

Sometimes Cole wished he had his 'I don't give a crap' attitude, but then he remembered that then he would become Zeke and that scared him off. He'd rather be the grumpy stubborn bastard.

But something felt strange. Every time he zapped something, his body started to feel stronger and stronger. However, this time, he was positively  _brimming_ with energy. He tested it by shooting a bolt of lightning at one of the mannequins Zeke put up to discourage robbery, watching in amazement as it shattered into many pieces.

_Wonder why I didn't notice that before._

He frowned at the shattered remains before he turned to fry every other dummy, much to Zeke's chagrin (as he would have to tidy up later on). If it was that easy grilling mannequins...then Reapers wouldn't be much trouble either.

An excited grin came to his face. He had never seriously contemplated using his powers against the gangs, but it seemed that he should have done this from the very beginning.

A loud engine roar made him pause and glance up, where a massive cargo plane was flying overhead. Zeke whooped. “Whoo! You see that? Flyin' so low, I thought it was going to crash into us!”

Cole rolled his eyes. Only Zeke would be excited about stuff like that. Those planes had been very frequent in the last days.  
And they usually meant supply drops.

The TV beeped, making Zeke sit up enthusiastically. “Hey, it's the TV jacker! Man, I love that guy.”

Cole frowned at the figure appearing on screen. He didn't like that guy, but he had to admit that the information about where the planes dropped their cargo was useful. And it certainly helped getting some of the stuff before the Reapers got to it.

But everything else he said? That the government had abandoned them? Sounded like garbage. Or goading the people into disobedience. But if they did, then there would be military- and military guys usually made no difference between angry and starving people and Reapers.

Cole glanced at Zeke. “I told you they'd drop food.”

Zeke scoffed, complaining that this was a PR stunt. That the feds didn't give a crap about the people of Empire. To Cole, it sounded suspiciously as if the 'Voice of Survival' had already succeeded brainwashing his best friend, though it was obvious that they didn't want to get them out of the city. Or else there wouldn't be a lockdown at Stampton bridge.

PR stunt or not, it wouldn't stop Zeke from pigging out. He asked him just that and Zeke shrugged. “Hell no it ain't. Zeke's gotta eat.” Sure. Out of the three of them, Zeke was the only one who could probably survive without any food for the next few weeks. Cole usually took away some of Zeke's portions and handed them over to Trish. She had gotten thinner, worry and the lack of sleep taking their toll on her.

Better get some of the food then. Cole glanced at Zeke. “You take the stairs”, he said. “I'll take the express elevator.” He didn't hurt himself anymore when jumping from great heights- which was pretty awesome for an Urban Explorer- and he used every moment to test those abilities out.

Zeke threw his arms up, complaining how he got to hog all the fun and went away to head down the stairs, while Cole rolled his shoulders and glanced around lazily.

He paused when he saw a dark spot flit over a flat roof. It looked human, but was moving  _too fast_ . Then it suddenly jumped off, crossing a distance of nearly half a block in a single bound before vanishing around the corner of another building.

Cole blinked. What the Hell had that just been?!

He watched for another moment before he turned, headed to the opening in Zeke's chain link fence and jumped down, hitting the ground with a resounding thud, flinging up some of the trash that had collected there and wasn't collected anymore. He grinned, dusting himself off. “Now that's what I'm talking about.”

It took Zeke half a minute to join him. He was panting and looked a little bit envious. “Whoo. That was one Hell of a jump, man. Wish I could do something like that- runnin' down all the stairs sucks donkey balls.” Cole arched his eyebrows. Donkey balls. Really? He looked around worried. They weren't the only ones on the street. Many more where heading to Archer Square, hoping to get some of the food, but too many were just sitting in the streets, looking apathetic with the lack of nourishment. He frowned, wishing he could help them. But he had no idea  _how_ \- maybe give them food once they got it?

Zeke frowned at them too, then turned to Cole as they both started to jog down the street. They couldn't help them if they couldn't even help themselves. “Hey Cole. Before we head over to Archer, I need to pick up a new six shooter.” Cole arched his brows. A new one? Did Ned actually hand them another one after what happened to the last one? He groaned, but Zeke grinned.

“Man, that was bad-ass. The second you touched it, the electricity in your hands cooks off the gun powder and the whole thing goes KABAM! The look on your face was priceless.”

“Damn near blew my hand off”, Cole growled.

“Which is why you won't be touching the new one”, Zeke lectured him, panting, “Traded him one of my home-made batteries for it.”

“The ones that _explode_ when you use them?”

“Hell, he doesn't know that.” Cole rolled his eyes. Was he really serious about this? Zeke panted a few times, then added “C'mon. He told me he was going to leave the gun in the parking lot.” A few blocks. Cole shrugged. He could easily reach that without even breaking a sweat, though he did wonder if Zeke could, too.

They jogged past an abandoned Pizza store, to which Zeke sighed longingly. He commented how badly he missed eating Pizza. Then he started ranting about one of their encounters with the police force. Cole acknowledged them with a grunt, remembering the way Zeke peed all over the guy when he flailed. Then they've stolen his patrol car and went on a joyride (again, Zeke's idea). They ended up in a holding cell for a few days after that.

“Bummer we won't be doin' that again”, Zeke finished.

“Yeah”, Cole snorted. “Not unless some genius invents a car that won't explode when I sit in it.” _That_ had been another surprise/shock for them when they discovered that the static electricity that was constantly around Cole ignited gas just as it did gun powder.

He just wanted to take a quick drive when the whole car exploded into a glorious fireball around him. He survived only slightly singed, but after that, he vowed to never get into a car again. Whiiiiich did kinda put a damper on the idea of taking Trish to a trip around the world.

They stopped at the parking lot. Cole frowned, Zeke wailed. “Awwww. C'mon! He told me he was going to leave it under a car. I figured there'd only be one, but now? We're never gonna find it!”

Cole tilted his head. Maybe Ned  _knew_ about the explosive side of Zeke's batteries and was just screwing him over for it? At any rate, there were only about six parked cars. It would be easy lying down and looking under each one. Or...

Cole smirked. Or he could try something. Cars were made of metal. Metal was magnetic. Could he push metal things away with his electricity?

He focused on the closest car and flung his hands out, slamming a force of near invisible energy into the vehicle. The car was send flying. Cole blinked, then whooped and repeated the move a few times until all cars were wrecked.

Zeke had first stared, then he cheered happily. “Hellacious! I didn't know you could do somethin' like that!” He went to pick up his gun and cradled it against his chest like a newborn.

“Me neither”, Cole admitted, panting. The blasts did take quite a lot out of him. He was beat like running for three miles straight at his top speed. “There was this...surge.”

Zeke frowned at him. “Hey man, you don't look so hot.”

“Drained”, Cole groaned. Something tugged at his senses, drawing his attention to the fuse box at the wall. He remembered being hit by those charges at _Ground Zero_ , and wondered whether he could replicate the effect. He stopped about three steps away from the outlet and focused, trying to get a feeling for the energy within.

Lightning surged out of the box and into his outstretched arms. Unlike at the parking lot, it didn't even  _hurt_ . It tickled.

Cole drained the electricity out of the fuse box for a short moment longer before he stepped back and stopped it.

And  _wow_ . He felt completely fine. Better even. He felt  _alive_ . He had been a little bit tired from the early morning, and hungry, but those were both just distant memories now.

“Did you see that?” He asked Zeke.

“Man!” His best friend realized. “You're a walking _battery_! Must have to recharge when you fire off a bunch of juice.”

“I can feel the electricity”, Cole explained, “Surging through me. Almost...like I'm being healed by it.” Okay. That would explain why the Hell he survived the entire explosion thing. He was _healing_ himself with electricity. Or more like- the electricity increased his natural self-healing abilities to inhuman levels- and supplied his body with energy, so he didn't seem to need to sleep or eat as much anymore. Holy shit, that's convenient.

“That rocks so hard!” Zeke whooped. He nodded over his shoulder. “C'mon. Let's haul tail over to the Archer Square 'fore someone takes all the brewskis.”

He hurried off and Cole followed him. His phone rang, followed by Trish's voice.

“ _Cole, you there?”_

Cole clicked the answer button. “Hey babe.”

“ _You hear they dropped some food?”_

“Yeah. Zeke and me are heading over there.”

“ _How are you feeling?”_ She asked. Cole knew she was, like always, worried about him. But he was fine. Better than fine actually. He had finally figured out what those powers were best used for.

“I'm great”, he explained, “Power's all over the place. You remember I used to be barely able to power a light bulb. But now?” His voice turned giddy. “Now I'm jumping off of buildings and fry the junk on Zeke's roof!”

There was a short pause, then Trish's voice turned accusing.  _“You jumped off a building? What were you thinking?”_

“Relax”, Cole chuckled. “I'm fine.”

“ _Just take it easy”_ Trish mumbled. _“After what happened to Amy, I couldn't...”_ She trailed off, voice turning distant.

“Yeah”, Cole muttered. He felt horribly sorry for Trish. After all, Amy was Trish's sister- they lived together, had been together forever.

Trish swallowed and tried to sound positive again.  _“See you at Archer Square. I love you.”_

“You too”, Cole whispered before he clicked his phone off.

Zeke and him jogged through the trash-cluttered street in silence, until the massive statue at Archer Square came into view. A crowd was already present, looking defeated.

They stopped at the entrance to the park to survey the situation. The supply box's parachute had snagged at the statue's outstretched hands. Cole groaned.

“That box's stuck up there”, Zeke pointed out helpfully. “Uh- hate to say it pal, but you're the only guy here who'd live from a fall like that.” He turned to him, shrugging. “Gotta climb up there and knock it free.”

Cole frowned. Climbing was one thing, but displaying his powers so openly?

Well, someday they would figure out- he wasn't exactly  _subtle_ , after all. Might as well go all out then.

He jogged towards one of the flag poles and latched onto it, easily climbing up.

“What's he doing?” Somebody in the crowd asked. Cole could hear them whisper and murmur. Well, looks like it was time for a show then.

“Look!”

“Is he crazy?”

Cole reached the top of the pole and pushed off, landing on top of the pedestal. A broken cable allowed him to reach the swirling decor that wrapped around the sculpture, and from there on it was a literal walk in the park. He reached the snagged box without any problems, listening to the people benath. First, he tried tugging at the parachute, but realized that this wouldn't work. He stepped back with a sigh and pointed his palm at the mount of the box. One bolt was enough to send the people startled back- and the box dropping to the ground. It split open, spilling crates full of food everywhere. Cole grinned.

But then his face fell and settled into a scowl. “Damn”, he growled. “Too late.”

A group of guys in red hoodies suddenly appeared out of nowhere, snarling and growling as they closed in on the civilians, shooting their assault rifles into the air to make them scatter.  _Reapers._

Before the blast, they were just junkies dealing drugs, but now? Now they own the Neon District.

Cole scowled and stood upright, lightning arching along his arms. He had walked away for too long. He had powers now. Those bastards wouldn't even know what hit them.

The Reapers were rushing into the plaza, and Cole acted. He jumped off the statue, grit his teeth and focused his entire energy.

Lightning roared around his body, enveloping him. When he hit the floor, all of it discharged at once. Three Reapers went down immediately, smoldering. Cole didn't know whether they were dead or not, but he couldn't find it in himself to give a damn.

Those bastards had hurt a lot people, had taken their food and left them to starve, had murdered even more just for shits and giggles and abducted a whole lot of civilians. And before that, they had been scum anyways.

_Time to clean up_ .

Cole lunged to the front, grabbing a Reaper and sending a surge through his head. The man convulsed before he collapsed. The remaining Reapers now turned their attention to him, aiming their rifles. Cole immediately dove for cover.

The Reapers snarled and tried to round on him, trying to take him from both sides. Cole ground his teeth together and leapt into their direction, downing two guys with bolts of lightning. Their buddies opened fire.

Cole bit back a pained yell when the bullets bit into him, forcing him to get back into cover. It burnt like fire, blood was spilling from the numerous wounds they'd torn- but within moments the injuries closed themselves off and pushed out the metal balls while at it, leaving only phantom pain in their wake. Cole growled and moved again, this time ducked lower to the ground. He wasn't keen on finding out whether he had a limit of bullets he could take nor did he want to get shot at again.

He threw his arms up, slamming a shockwave into the two closest Reapers in front of him, sending them flying back. One cracked his head against the ground, and stayed down, the other was writhing in pain until Cole zapped him once.

More bullets thudded into his back, making him dive to the side with a swear. A lamp post next to him took his attention for a second, so he could drain it and heal right back up. Then he flung himself back towards the Reapers, arms blazing with electricity. Those bastards were going  _down_ !

He fried three more, until only two remained.

Cole scowled and turned to them, lightning arching around his body. The Reapers backed off, snarling and growling like dogs. He growled right back and moved closer in a threatening manner. But then the Reapers lunged. Not at  _him_ , but rather at a civilian who was casually walking towards Archer Square. For a second Cole wondered under which rock the guy's been, because everybody else was cowering behind cover to avoid being shot at.

Then he suddenly realized that the Reapers now had a  _hostage_ . And idiot or not- he was innocent.

Cole snarled and backed off when they pressed their rifles against the man's head. Lightning was still surging around him, but he couldn't get a clear shot at them without hitting the guy.

The guy--who looked mildly  _annoyed_ , if anything. He was a thin one, maybe three inches taller than Cole, but lacking his built shape. He wore a pair of worn jeans, designer boots and a white shirt. There was an assault rifle slung over his shoulder.

The Reapers growled and waved their weapons into his face. Cole noticed the man's cold blue eyes narrow.

Then the guy lifted his hands-

And smashed the Reaper's heads together. He didn't knock them out, though.

No.

Cole watched in horror as the Reaper's heads exploded like ripe melons, sending shards of skull, teeth, eyeballs and brains flying everywhere.

“Holy shit”

* * *

 

Alex had been mildly interested when he heard the sound of gunshots coming from the direction of Archer square. Reapers, by the smell of them. He had hurried there, hoping he'd get to take a few pot-shots at the guys, when he noticed a man shoot  _lightning out of his hands_ , driving the Reapers back.

It wasn't just any man, though- it was the courier that had torn down the Fremont Bridge.  _Looks like he got his powers under control then._

It appeared he had the situation under control too, and Alex was intrigued and had wanted to watch for a little while. The courier was strong, firing bolts of lightning everywhere. It made his skin crawl, because electricity wasn't exactly one of his favorite things, but as long it wasn't directed at him, he could enjoy the show.

Until these two brain-dead morons decided he was a worthy hostage. Alex frowned as they stuck their rifles into his face, snarling and growling.

He may have used a bit too much strength when dispatching them, though, because now he had brain matter sticking on his chest, hands and face. The courier (and the people in the background) stared at him in horror.

“Holy shit”

Alex snorted and moved towards the man, who backed off in a defensive stance. Alex glanced at him bored, but didn't pay him any attention apart from the initial eye contact. Dana had told him to get a crate, and he would do so.

The nurse, the courier's girlfriend, approached him, but backed off fearfully. She huddled up to the courier, who scowled openly at him and was producing those sparks again, but didn't dare coming closer at the moment. Alex assumed they were put off from his display of power and the sight of the stains on his outer layers of Biomass. Eh. He could clean it off as soon he wasn't in public places anymore. But it would be better if he didn't lingered any longer. Somebody might recognize him.

Alex inclined his head and grabbed a crate, easily hoisting it over his shoulder before he turned on his heel and went away. He had no interest in these people here. Not as long he had a job to do- though the courier  _was_ interesting with his abilities. He would need to study them further, because they also seemed to have healed him. He did get hit by some bullets, and asides from holes in his jacket and pants, there wasn't a single scratch on him.

But he wasn't infected like he was, wasn't a Runner. He was something else.

And Alex would figure out  _what_ exactly he was.

There was a sharp beep that made him shiver involuntarily. His ears were too fine for this crap anyways, but it did tell him that this 'Voice of Survival' guy was on show again.

The screen atop a tall building flickered, showing a grainy picture.

“ _Take a look at this, Empire City”_ , the VOS claimed, _“This is the security footage taken shortly before the great blast.”_ Alex's eyes narrowed. It was the courier, standing at the street with a package in his hands. He set it down and opened it, then everything went white. _“If you know who he is, or know where he is- let me know”_ , the guy said, _“Because we have to take this terrorist down! He has to pay!”_

Alex slowly turned, glancing at the courier. The man stood there, eyes wide, fists clenched at his side.

Their gazes met. Alex tilted his head. The courier stared at him, realizing that he recognized him.  _Very interesting._

 


	5. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So an idiot just told the whole city you're an alleged terrorist. What are you going to do?  
> Run, of course.

** The Escape **

 

No. No. Nonono. This couldn't be. This...this was exactly what he tried to prevent.

Cole stood there, staring in horror at the screen that just flickered off. This idiot had just accused him of planting that bomb- hell, he accused him for  _murdering_ thousands of people.

How much longer did he have until the people around here would notice him? Would figure out he was the guy on that screen?

Trying to explain that he was just a  _parcel courier_ would be like talking to a brick wall- angry and starved people were  _hyenas_ . They would tear him to pieces from rage before he even managed to utter a single word. Hell, he couldn't even  _remember_ opening the package, or anything before he woke up- but who would have him deliver a bomb? That Kessler guy? For what? And why him?

His body froze when a pair of cold eyes settled on him. The guy from before, who had completely obliterated a pair of Reaper's heads, was glancing at him. Watching him closely. He had recognized him, that much was sure, but this entire guy was just wrong. Even though he didn't seem to think about attacking him outright, it wasn't  _right_ . The focus wasn't anywhere  _human_ . 

He didn't even  _blink_ . He had easily obliterated two men without any care, and something told Cole he had been  _holding back_ the entire time. Cole's gut told him he wasn't someone to meddle with. And now he was staring at him like someone would stare at a piece of meat.

Holy shit.

He heard a choked sob and like a rubber band, his attention snapped to Trish. Trish- who just realized that  _he_ was the one who murdered her little sister Amy.

She stared at him with wide eyes, before she slowly took a step back. Cole moved to follow her, but he went rigid as he saw her eyes- large and pleading.

He couldn't walk any closer, couldn't tell her that it wasn't his fault. He only swallowed instead, watching her. Trish didn't look at him. She just turned on her heel and walked away, away from him. Out of his life.

He couldn't stop her.

By then, he picked up the chatter of the people around. He glanced over his shoulder, afraid what he'll find. They stared at him, whispering. Cole inhaled sharply. He saw it in their eyes- the recognition, the desperation, the  _hatred_ . Even Zeke was peeking at him over his glasses- suspicion clear on his features.

They  _knew_ . They  _realized_ he'd been amongst them.

Things were going to turn ugly.

Cole whipped around, staring at the guy from before. He hadn't moved, was still watching him- but not like the people. If anything, he was intrigued.

Cole realized he had to get  _away_ . 

He stepped back, eyes wide. The single guy was more disturbing than the entire mob of people now slowly starting to close in on him. Cole knew he didn't have much time.

“Zeke”, he hissed, startling his best friend. “If you think we shouldn't be here- then meet me at Stampton Bridge.”

“You want to get out of the city?” Zeke whispered back, startled.

“You have a better plan?” He inched away from the approaching mob, moving his feet slightly. “We need to get away before all of this here explodes.” He turned his attention to Zeke. “I wasn't responsible- you have to believe me!”

“I-I do, man”, Zeke replied, “But _they_ won't”

“That's why I have to get away. I have to find the guy who set this whole thing up.” 

He didn't hear Zeke's reply, because one of the civilians in the mob tried to make a grab for him. Cole dove to the side to avoid that guy, barreled past two more and started rushing away from the people. This whole thing turned into a nightmare too fast.

He heard shouts behind him, hoping Zeke would show up at Stampton Bridge, because right now he was a little short on friends.

The mob tried to chase after him, except for two- Zeke and the man with the blue eyes. And Cole still felt those eyes cling to his back as he ran.

* * *

 

Shaking the mob was easy enough- Cole had latched onto a rain drain and pulled his body upwards, then leapt off and clung to a windowsill on the building next to it, using it to reach the flat roof. He heard the people shout at him from beneath, but didn't pause to look because a few rocks had already been aimed at his general direction. He knew he had to get out of Empire  _fast_ . Until now, it were only those guys from the Archer Square who'd recognized him, plus maybe a few others who had watched the Voice of Survival. At the moment, the majority probably wouldn't notice him. He never stood in the center of attention, was just the guy who delivered a parcel and was gone the next moment. Not somebody you'd remember. This did come in handy at moments like this, but he didn't want to stay and figure out what would happen once this changed. His safest bet was to get out of Empire and try to find this Kessler person, to unveil this entire thing.

Kessler had been the one who called George about the parcel, Kessler had called him and told him to open the box, igniting the bomb. Which meant that Kessler was the key to everything. Cole just had to find him.

But he couldn't stay here to do this- to him it was much too dangerous, since he was effectively a wanted criminal now.

This was ridiculous. He did had his few run-ins with the cops, but only for small crimes like vandalism and trespassing. Terrorism was so far from his usual behavior like Zeke and  _not_ flirting with women. Impossible. Ridiculous. Absolute bullshit.

He quickly hurried over the roof, dropping back down at the other end of the block to get out. His neck was crawling, and he did notice a few Reapers lurking around near the mouths of alleyways, but they held back. For now.

His phone chimed.  _“Uhh- Cole?”_ It was Zeke.  _“Listen man, I'm almost at the bridge.”_ He paused, and Cole could almost hear him squirm.  _“It's not looking too good. Everybody here hates your guts, we gotta get out of town. Pronto-like.”_

Cole exhaled in relief. “I'll meet you there”, he replied and he felt like a ton of worry dropping off his back, “Thanks for watching my back.”

He really meant it. To be honest, he didn't expect Zeke to come with him, not after Trish...but he did. He was there, like he always had been.

Zeke chuckled.  _“Sure man”_ He paused, then added, “ _I ain't about do anything to piss you off. See ya.”_ He clicked the phone off maybe a tad too fast. Cole frowned as he quickly mounted another building to avoid a group of passerby on the ground. Zeke- he was  _afraid_ of him. Those powers scared him, but Cole wondered whether his best friend really suspected him to have caused that explosion?

From all people, Zeke knew him best- Hell, he knew him like a brother, so  _he_ , of all people, should know that this whole show was just a farce.

“That's him!” Somebody shouted. Cole swore and ducked low, then lunged across the gap between two buildings to lose his chasers. He really shouldn't stick around- the emotions were starting to boil over. Empire was a keg of powder at the moment, just waiting to go off.

Better get out of there fast.

_Is this really the right choice?_

Cole faltered, glancing back. The people- they were desperate. Something had torn them from their peaceful life, something that had to do with  _him._ The answers to this were in Empire, hidden somewhere. But he- he was running away like a coward.

_Did he?_

Whoever Kessler was, he probably wouldn't stick around Empire City. He just blew the place up, Cole wouldn't stay anywhere near that place of he had been in Kessler's shoes. And to find him, he couldn't afford being stuck in this place.

He snorted and continued running across the roofs, then dropped down to the street. The Stampton Bridge was in the south of the Neon, and he was almost there.

He noticed Zeke standing besides on of the support pillars for the railway system that ran over the streets. He checked both sides, then hurried over to him.

From here, they could see the large structure of the Stampton Bridge- and the heavy gates and fortified walls. Stern-looking riot cops lined the sides of the access road, holding a large group of angry protesters at bay. They weren't local cops, though. They've been brought in- and they didn't bother keeping the criminals in check.

Cole scowled at them. Zeke sighed. “Well, Stampton Bridge. Fastest way out of town.” He glanced at Cole over the rim of his glasses. “That is, if you can get us past these baton-wielding goons.”

“We're getting out of here”, Cole growled. “One way or another.” He started moving, glaring at the locked gates and the men in the distance. “Follow my lead.”

At first, he was jogging at a slow pace, but then he sped up and barreled right past the protesters into the restricted area. The riot cops went ramrod straight, and a mechanical voice blared overhead.

“ _You have entered a restricted area”_ , the voice warned, _“Lethal Force may be used at any time. Please return to your homes. You will be notified when the quarantine has been lifted.”_

“Notify my ass”, Cole growled. He rushed to the front, throwing his arms up. Three riot cops were smacked to the side by his shockwave.

Instantly, the remaining eight spun around and tried to crowd on him with their night sticks, but Cole was faster. He flung his arms out, creating arching bolts of lightning to fry five of them. The others staggered back in shock. Cole snarled and whipped around, swinging one leg to topple another one. He grabbed his shoulders and swung himself over his back to sink both feet into the sixth's chest.

The man choked and dropped back, while Cole threw a nasty uppercut into the fifth' jaw, downing him too. He grabbed the two remaining cops and slammed their heads together, stunning them, before he brought up one knee to first one's stomach to drop him. The other stumbled back in a daze. Cole whirled around and lunged at him, hitting him with his entire weight. The cop and him both tumbled down, and the man cracked his head against the asphalt, knocking himself out.

Cole remained as the only one standing. He panted as the adrenaline subsided, and slowly straightened his back. Wow. He had just taken out eleven armored guys, all of who had more experience in close combat than he had.

“Man! That was brutal!” Zeke cheered, jogging up to him. Cole glanced at his best friend, then towards the protesters. They were staring at the scene, whispering.

Cole grunted and turned to the locked gate. There was a lock to its side. Looked complicated, he probably needed a code for it.

Or...he could do this the simple way. He summoned a single lightning bolt and sent it into the locking mechanism, frying the tech inside and causing a short-circuit.

The gate rolled up, opening the way.

Cole didn't stop to gloat, instead he charged further across the bridge. A couple of freight containers were strewn across the street, blocking off the direct way. Two cops stood atop the first container. Cole stopped with a start, noticing the machine guns in their hands.

_Shit_ .

The men opened fire. The protesters dove back behind the gate, but Cole remained where he was. He started moving fast, zig-zagging across the street to prevent them from shooting him, but couldn't dodge all the bullets. He bit back the pained yell when they hit him, and instead sent two lightning bolts at the guys on top of the crates to fry them. Once they were out for the count, he rushed to the corner of the freight container.

Something screamed at the inside of his mind, making him dig his heels into the ground to stop. He didn't like the...feeling of danger he was getting, so he very carefully peeked around the corner- only to pull back immediately when he saw a massive machine gun turret swing into his direction.

Okay. Change of plans.

“Man Cole!” Zeke panted as he and the protesters arrived near him, “That was _wicked_.” He was about to head around the crate, when Cole pulled him back.

“Turret”, he grunted. “Wait a moment.” He charged up again and craned his arm around the corner, unleashing everything he had.

The screaming of the riot cop manning the turret and the sound it made as it exploded in a shower of sparks was like music to his ears. He didn't know where this aggressiveness came from, but it did make him feel better.

He rushed around the container, smacking another shockwave into a group of riot cops to clear the area briefly. He quickly turned his attention towards an outlet at the side, and drained it in a massive flood of lightning.

Then he continued towards the cops, electricity discharging all around him. The men backed away, fearful, only to be fried by his powers before they could give off a single shot. His senses warned him again, and he stopped behind another container. He focused on the electricity around, the ions in the air and the power surging through the nearby machinery to create a mental 'map' of his immediate surroundings.

Two more machine gun turrets stood on either side of the street, just behind the container. Trying to get past them would be suicide.

But Cole wouldn't need to get past them, if he could get  _over_ them.

He hopped off the floor, clung to the edge of the container and pulled himself up. He carefully crept towards the other side, then suddenly unleashed several strong lightning bolts against the two turrets to destroy them.

The riot cops operating them were knocked back, hitting the floor in unconscious heaps. He wasn't sure whether they were still alive or not- but somehow he couldn't find it in himself to care. If they hadn't shot him, they wouldn't have to deal with the consequences. Not his fault.

He snorted and continued moving. With the immediate danger gone, Cole jumped off the container and headed towards the second locked gate. He fried its lock too, making it jump open.

More containers and cops greeted them. Cole made short work of the closest men, then dove behind the first crate and focused again. This time, it was easier to map his surrounding. Three men stood atop the containers further down the bridge, holding machine guns.

They were ready to shoot and  _kill_ , and Cole no longer knew mercy. He latched onto the container and carefully pulled himself parallel to the upper edge, then just held his hand over the edge. Guided by his internal 'radar', he targeted the three soldiers and zapped them to drop them, then he pulled himself up and destroyed the turrets.

“ _This area is under strict quarantine”_ , the mechanical voice blared, _“Indiscriminate lethal force will be used against all unauthorized personnel. This is your last warning!”_

As if. They were already intruding. Now there was only one way left- to the front. Cole snorted and dove off the crate, then rolled over the ground to avoid a barrage of gun shots coming from two soldiers down the street. He was upon them faster than they could react, smashing into them and slamming them against the container walls behind them with satisfying  _cracks_ . 

Blood was trickling down his leg, though he only glanced at it in mild annoyance. He turned his attention to the spotlights and drained them, fixing himself right back up. Just a shame his clothes weren't made of the same stuff- but whatever, it were just a few holes at the moment.

The protesters and Zeke had caught up to him, surprised and slightly startled by the devastation he managed to cause within a few moments, but they were following him regardless. They had realized he was their ticket out.

_Better not let them down then_ .

He took out two more turrets, then lunged at another riot cop. The man screamed in panic, tried to shoot him, but he was too slow. Cole smacked into him with enough force to knock him back.

Then the man suddenly dropped his weapon and ran away screaming at the top of his lungs. Cole watched after him in confusion.  _Huh. Guess not all of those riot cops are tough bastards._

“I can't believe it”, Zeke grinned, patting Cole's shoulder, “We're really making this.”

_Is it really the right way, though?_ Cole frowned at his best friend. Where they doing the right thing? Definitely. Because those bastards have locked them in with a bunch of psychos to let them starve. After seeing the turrets and the readiness of the men to use lethal violence, Cole had to agree with Zeke's thoughts. The supply drops were only PR moves, in truth the feds just wanted the problem to disappear without them having to work.

Breaking through the barricades was the right course of action. Once they were on the other side, Cole would take care to find this Kessler person, and show the world the  _real_ terrorist.

He turned back to the battlefield behind them with furrowed brows. Getting here was maybe a bit too easy, but then again, it was easy for  _him_ . 

“What now? Don't you want to open that gate?” Zeke asked him.

“Wait a moment”, Cole grunted. He activated his 'radar' again, checking the area.

Too much...disturbance. That meant, too much metal. He scowled. This smelled too much of a trap. Should they progress further? Getting back was off the table, not after the trouble getting here, but to the front it looked like danger lurked. He didn't like this one bit.

Maybe they should play it safe, and try it differently? He glanced up. It would be possible to climb the bridge and assault the guys from above.

The gate creaked and rolled up, followed by Zeke's enthusiastic whooping. Cole whirled, realizing that his friend had just hacked into the lock to open it. “See this, Cole? You don't need being able to shoot lightning to get this to work!”

“Zeke!” Cole hissed, but the protesters were already rushing into the open place behind the gate.

Nothing happened. “See?” Zeke claimed, “They never thought we'd ever get here.” He nodded towards the massive wall of steel and concrete at the other end of the open place. “Over there's the quarantine station. That's our ticket out of here!”

He jogged off. Cole swore and rushed after him. His entire body was bristling with the sense of danger. They shouldn't be here- they shouldn't be here  _at all_ .

The open gate suddenly slammed shut with a resounding  _bang_ . Cole jerked back, seeing dozens of hatches open in front of them.

The world around them was drowned out in machine gun fire and screaming people.

Without hesitation, those bastards opened fire on the civilians below. They never stood a chance as they ended their lives in a hailstorm of bullets and naked panic. Zeke was screaming at Cole to follow him, and Cole just reacted. He couldn't believe that this was really happening (but then again,  _what_ had he been expecting, really), so he just followed blindly after his friend.

Zeke barreled headlong into the gate to the decontamination unit, smashed through it- and tumbled off the bridge, falling into the harbor. Cole screamed his name, but couldn't afford to slow down. Everything was falling apart around him, and he could only press forwards. He ran, faster than he ever ran before, jumping over the gap that swallowed Zeke, and leapt into a dark room at the other side. The door slammed shut behind him, throwing him into darkness.

* * *

 

Cole didn't dare to move. All he could do was sit there in the darkness, listen to his own pants and occasional choking sob. He could still hear the shots explode out of the muzzles of the machine guns, he could still feel the bites of the bullets that hit him, he could still hear the panicked screams of the people. He could still smell the blood.

This was a mistake. All of it. He had failed. And because of it, dozens had died a senseless death. Because of it, Zeke was gone.

Why had he been such an idiot? There was no way he'd ever figure out what was going on, he didn't even know what that bomb had been. But he foolishly believed that by some magical happening, he'd figure out everything once they'd left Empire City.

Stupid, stupid-

“Cole MacGrath.”

The light above flickered to life, making him blink to clear his vision of the spots. Another light went on, revealing a brunette woman sitting on the other side of a heavy-duty security window.

Cole stared at her, trying to work his jaw. “Who-who are you?”

The woman tilted her head. “My name is Moya Jones”, she told him. “I'm with the FBI.”

FBI. That was bad. Was she here because of that terrorism? Hell, that wasn't  _him_ , that was somebody else.

“I've seen the security footage”, Moya told him, confirming his fears. “You've been at Ground Zero.” She shrugged. “I waited here, knowing you'd have gained...unique abilities and would try to get out of the city.”

Cole blinked, before it finally settled in what she said. She  _knew_ that this would have happened? She  _knew_ it?

He growled at her, slowly rising to his feet while lightning started to lash out of his skin. How much power would he need to smash through the glass? How much time would he have before there were soldiers on his ass?

“Please, settle down”, Moya suddenly asked. “If this is about the blast- I had no idea _he_ would even use that weapon.”

“He?” Cole wanted to know. “Kessler?!”

One eyebrow arched. “I see, you know about him then?”

“I only know that _he_ was the one who set me up with that package”, Cole snapped, “The thing that blew up.”

“It's called _Ray Sphere_.” Moya said calmly. Cole blinked.

“Ray Sphere?”

“The object- the bomb you carried”, she explained. She paused and grabbed a folder off a low table, pulling a photography from it. It showed the orb that had been in the package.

“This is the Ray Sphere”, Moya explained. “You see- the FBI has learnt about it. It is a weapon, powerful, that's why we need to get to it before he does. We have to prevent another blast.”

“What has this to do with me?” Cole growled, “With those powers?”

Moya smiled, a cold smile. It reminded him of a snake, ready to lunge at him. “You see, this weapon has a single purpose: It activates ordinary people as  _conduits_ .”

“Conduits?”

“You are one, Cole”, Moya explained. “People with power- or people who can display powers. It's rare, and only a few people have what we call a 'Conduit Gene'. Anybody who has one however, would be activated by the Ray Sphere blast.”

This Ray Sphere- it gave him his powers?

“You see”, Moya continued, “The Ray Sphere works by drawing the neuroelectrical energy from non-conduits and transfers them into conduits- in other words, from normal people to _you_ , Cole. You have been given powers, everybody else died.”

Cole jerked back, staring wide-eyed at the FBI agent. “What?!” He gasped, “This Kessler- he  _murdered_ people just because so I can have these powers?!”

“Exactly”, Moya replied. “His plan was to activate your powers.” She shrugged. “I don't know _why_ though, maybe it had been an experiment or something.”

Cole swallowed. If this was true- then they had to prevent Kessler from doing it again. He glanced at Moya, clenching his fists. “What-what do you want me to do?”

“Oh, it's great you asked”, Moya smiled that snake smile again. “You see- my husband John White, he went to infiltrate the First Sons. The First Sons are Kessler's private army. John was supposed to get the Ray Sphere.” She sighed and pulled out another photography, looking defeated all the while. The picture showed a dark-skinned man with short hair and a stern expression. “I haven't heard of him since the blast. I am certain he is still alive, and he still has the Sphere. So, your job is it to find him, find the Ray Sphere and get them both back to me.”

Cole frowned. The reason sounded solid- and it seemed easy enough. Just find a guy who was hiding from the real terrorist. “What do I get in return?” He wanted to know.

“Your freedom”, Moya explained. “I will make sure you get out of Empire, plus I would have my boys clear your name.”

Cole furrowed his brows even more. This sounded...good. Too good, actually.

“Remember Cole”, she continued, “You get what you want, I get what I want. Easy, right? All you have to do is find John.”

He inclined his head, turning that thought over in his head. It was a plan, a good way to get his name cleared. Moya knew Kessler, and she had connections.

“Now?”

Cole snorted. “You know- I would think you're crazy. This whole thing is crazy. Those super powers are crazy.” He shrugged. “But suddenly I am a human light socket- so I guess you're telling the truth.”

“Do we have a deal?”

“We have.”

“Splendid” Moya got up and pressed a button at the wall. A hatch popped open besides Cole.

“Your way back”, she explained when she noticed his expression. “Because of that riot topside, it's the only way back into the city.” She smiled. “Also, given the state of our partnership, I've taken the liberty of cloning your phone's frequency. I've got a lock on your GPS locater and can hear every word you say.”

Cole flinched and stared at her. Really? One minute into their alliance, and he is already beginning to regret it. He was already preparing to tell her off, but she cut him off.

“Don't forget who's holding your leash, Cole”, Moya said. “You find John and the Ray Sphere, and I get you out. No questions asked.” She leaned to the front, eyes turning cold. “If you try to double-cross me, or do something stupid, I will throw you in a hole so deep you won't even know which way is up, got it?”

Cole scowled at her. He didn't like the sort of blackmail she was using, but he didn't really have a choice in this matter. She held all the cards, she knew how this game was played- and she had the means he didn't. He really, really was going to regret this.

“Got it”, he growled. Then he dropped through the hatch.

* * *

 

Cole ended up on the underside of the bridge. Steel grates and pipes were all that cut him off from the water beneath.

He exhaled through his nose, trying to figure out how to get back to the dry land.

He noticed the emergency lighting beneath the bridge- they were hanging on solid thick cables and were attached to the upper decks via a rather brittle looking clamp. He aimed his hand and shot a lightning bolt, breaking the clamp and making the light drop down.

He jumped off the grate and latched onto the thick cable, then scrambled upwards to shoot off the next one. His fingers were sweaty, and his pulse was going too fast.

One slip and he would fall into the harbor, electrocute himself and drown. Better not think about it.

He was the only one who could prevent another explosion from happening. So he fought down that feeling of fear and continued climbing along the emergency lights and some maintenance grates. Rusty and fragile-looking pipes were also amongst the only possible ways to continue. Cole swallowed, eying them. They didn't look like they would be able to hold his weight, but he had to try.

He carefully climbed on top of the first pipe and quickly made his way over, wary of every creak they made.

_Clunk_

Cole paused, listening. This didn't sound like the groan of metal. This sounded...more like a sledgehammer?

_Clunk_

Cole hopped over a few more pipes, glancing at the underbelly of the bridge in front of him.

He saw something red, some figures beneath the bridge.  
It weren't maintenance workers, though.

It were Reapers.

He grit his teeth, carefully making his way closer. One of the reapers suddenly whipped around, snarling. In an instant, the others had their weapons up and were taking aim at him.

_Oh Hell no!_

Cole fired several bolts of lightning, hitting the Reapers. They shrieked in pain when they were knocked back and sent hurtling down into the water. Cole landed on the grate they've been one, frowning at the sledgehammer wedged into a pipe.

Water was trickling out of it.

“ _Cole?”_ Moya asked, _“The water pressure has dropped in the main running under the bridge. What's going on down there?”_

“Reapers were busting up some pipes”, he replied.

“ _Interesting”_ , Moya trailed off. _“I'll see what I can find out. You worry about getting back into the city.”_

Easier said than done. Cole scowled at the apparent dead end he found himself in. However...He glanced to the side, finding a thin pipe running around the side of the support pillar there. Oh Hell. Why not? He climbed on it, thanking whoever was up there that it held his weight.

As he inched over the narrow piece of metal, he tried to keep his breathing even. He had his hands pressed flat against the smooth steel, but if he slipped and fell, he would have nothing to hold to.

But there were also exhausts giving off hot gas on top of it all, forcing him to stay pressed to the wall until they weren't spewing the stuff. Somewhere, he was sure, somebody was laughing at his misery. Probably Moya. She could easily have him escorted back to the city via street level, but no, she insisted on him climbing along the lower side of the bridge and risk his neck.

She was so off his Christmas card list.

He broke down more of those emergency lights and jumped off the grate, landing on a pipe.

_CRACK_

The pipe snapped under his weight. Cole swore and just barely managed to jump off it and clung to the thick wire. Okay, he would not repeat that.

He made his way across the pipes, startled to realize that all of them had been damaged so badly they snapped under his weight. He ran, praying silently that he wouldn't trip while every single pipe broke with a solid  _crack_ .

He messed up the last jump. He swore, trying to reach the harbor wall  _somehow_ , but only smacked against it. In that short moment of panic, he managed to scrabble his hands up and cling to the edge, but he had no real position, or a real hold.

His fingers slipped.

Cole swore loudly as he lost his hold- but then a soppy wet hand shot out and seized his forearm. His head snapped up, eyes wide at the recognition of Zeke's visage above him. “I got you!”

“Z-Zeke?!”

“Yeah”, Zeke grinned, then gasped. “Uh- no offense, but you _are_ heavier than you look- and I can't really hold you any more.”

Cole blinked, then scrambled his feet against the wall until he managed to get enough grip and allow Zeke to pull him up.

They both ended up in an undignified heap on the street, Zeke huffing out when Cole dropped on him. Cole groaned and rolled off his best friend to lie on his back.

“Holy shit”, he finally managed to press out. “That was intense.”

“This whole day had been shit”, Zeke agreed. 

Cole grinned. “Nice work on the gate, Wrecking Ball.”

Zeke snorted. “The fall was scary”, he said, “But Hell- lived through it no problem. But gettin' back to the shore-” He paused, and his voice lowered to a whisper. “Let's just say I'm no Michael Phelps.”

Cole barked a genuine laughter. “Yeah”, he smirked, “That's an understatement.”

“Hey. Take it easy, Lightning Rod”, Zeke replied with a weak punch into his ribs. They both slowly sat up, staring at the bridge. “So, how the Hell'd you live through _that_? Bullets flyin' everywhere, all over the place-” He glanced at him worried. “Thought you were a goner.”

“I met someone”, Cole sighed. “FBI lady named Moya.” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shit, she's a scary piece, but she has all the possibilities, Zek.”

Zeke frowned. “What kind of possibilities?”

“She just wants me to find her husband. Him and that bomb. Then she'll clear my name.”

“Sounds like a trap, man.”

“I know. And she's a real bossy bitch too.” Cole sighed again (knowing fully well she could hear him). “But there's no choice. I'll play along.”

“I don't like that”, Zeke repeated.

“Me neither. But at the time? She's the best lead I have.” He slapped Zeke's shoulder, wincing at the soggy sound it made and the sparks flashing across his arm. “Let's get you home and into dry clothes, I'll fill you in.”

* * *

 

Alex had easily delivered the crate to the clinic sitting in central Neon. He had cleaned himself back up by consuming whatever had been left of the Reapers, but didn't bother doing the same to the crate.

Dana didn't complain though. She was just glad to get that food.

Alex sat besides her in the break room. Dana moaned as she stretched out, balancing a plate with beans on her knees. “God. I fucking hate this shit.”

“We survived worse”, Alex muttered, “These are just a bunch of idiots with guns, not slavering monsters.”

“I know”, Dana sighed, “But they're _people_ , Alex. They shouldn't do shit like that.”

“They're not. Not anymore”, he replied.

“No?”

“Their brains...they're gone. Like mentally.” He shook his head. “Haven't seen anything like that before, but it seems to have been caused by a prolonged exposure to some sort of...tar.”

Dana frowned, pushing a bang out of her face. She was pale and had dark rings under her eyes, Alex noticed. She really shouldn't push herself any further- but so many people needed help. The Reapers were getting bolder and more aggressive.

He just hoped that they would get the message if he took out a few more of them.

“Where are the guns coming from, anyways?” Dana asked. “I mean, shit like that- it's not exactly easy to get.”

“Tried to figure it out”, Alex replied, “But all I got were...flashes. Nothing certain.”

“What about the serial numbers?” Dana asked, “I mean, with all the bureaucracy going on, somebody is bound to know where the stuff comes from.”

Alex blinked, understanding slowly trickling in. She was right- he had been too occupied trying to figure out how to crack this with  _his_ abilities, he forgot how humans do it.

“Jim's going to figure that one out”, Dana added with a smile, “He works this job, right?”

“He's not going to be happy”, Alex pointed out.

“Eh. He's never happy. He _is_ Heller, after all.”

Alex actually smiled at that. Well, tried to, anyways. Coming up with a smile on Mercer's face was pretty hard. He could do it no problem with other faces- they knew how to smile, so to speak, but Mercer didn't.

His gaze fell on the television set. It was off.

“Dana?” He asked, “Why is the TV off?”

“Why should it be running?” She asked back, “I mean, all that's running is static or that 'Voice of Survival' crap.”

He furrowed his brows. “You never called it like that.”

Dana threw up her arms. “The info about the drops is good- but it doesn't make up for the rest of the shit he's spewing.” She lowered her arms. “I mean, the whole crap about the government leaving us to starve? Hell-ooo. I already knew that. You don't need to be a genius to figure that one out. And the new stuff is just bullshit.”

“The terrorism story?”

“Yup. I mean, c'mon. That fucker doesn't know what's going on and organizes a _manhunt_? Geez- he just has to use his brain once in a while.”

“The guy's name is Cole, right?” Alex queried.

“Yup. And he's a _courier_. Couriers usually carry packages of all kinds. He just got unlucky to have the one with the bomb in it.”

“He did get powers, though”, he pointed out. “I've seen them. Some sort of electro-manipulation”, he added.

Dana shot him a long hard look. “You did too”, she said. “You got called a terrorist too- you know how it is. Fuckers are just looking for an easy scapegoat to brush all their dirt under a convenient rug made of lies.”

“Just in my case it was actually true. Sort of.”

“But not in this.” She paused, frowning. “You will get to the bottom of this, won't you?”

Alex pulled his lips up in a smirk. “I will”

“I was afraid you'd say this”, she sighed. “Just- just try to work a bit more subtle, okay? Blackwatch shouldn't know you're here.”

“Don't worry”, Alex replied. “I have noticed that there are a lot of people suddenly displaying...unusual powers. I doubt my strength will be noticeable much.”

“Yeah, but leave the claws for the night.”

“Don't worry.” He got up, glancing outside. “I'll check the area again, make sure nothing is going to get to you.”

“Bring coffee if you find some”, Dana called out as he walked through the door.

* * *

 

The district was like a kicked nest of hornets. He could hear their voices, he could hear them gossiping about what the Voice of Survival said. The courier was their scapegoat, their target. They wanted to get him.

But what for? Alex had seen good people turn into a rabid lynch mob for no reason. He doubted the guy was in any real danger from them, but this piece of human mind was more than known to him. Paranoia and hysteria had caused riots and uprisings since the ancient times. Witches had been burnt, black people hanged, alleged terrorists beaten dead. If fear grabbed the people and mixed with ignorance, then it was laughable easy to destroy an entire group of humans. He'd tried it out a few times in Blackwatch Bases, having pointed out somebody and called them his own name. Their friends wasted no time putting a bullet into their brain, and even after that they never seemed to wisen up when he did the same trick over and over again.

Humans were pathethic like that.

He paused, listening to distant shouts and...machine gun fire.

In an instant, he moved over to where he heard it.

Stampton Bridge. His eyes narrowed. He noticed lightning lash out across the building, and shots crack out. The locked-down gates were wide open, and there were bodies strewn across the ground. Without getting closer, he couldn't recognize whether they were dead, but the implications were clear: The courier attempted to break through the lockdown.

It was not as foolish as it seemed. He had impressive abilities, and a single man might be able to get through the quarantine.

To him, it certainly was, even without stealing one of the soldier's faces. The Manhattan lockdown wouldn't have kept him in anyways if he really set his mind into it. The turrets were easily destroyed with a single Whipfist swing, tanks pulped with the Hammerfists, soldiers killed by simply punching the floor next to them and let the resulting shockwave do the rest. The only thing holding him back in Manhattan and here was the same: Dana.

Somebody was screaming, running  _towards_ his current position. Alex frowned, watching how a single riot cop came running through the barricades. 

Blacklight inclined his head, then shifted his arm into the Whipfist. He shot it to the front, pronged claws glintening in the sunlight as they crossed the distance of a hundred feet within the blink of an eye. And certainly too fast for the man to react.

He wasn't very hungry, but he was curious.

The man's breath was punched from his lungs when Alex dragged him back, reeling in his catch.

His eyes widened instantly, his hands clawing at the talon holding him captive, begging for his life all the time. Pleas that he could frightfully easy ignore. Alex slammed his free hand into the man's throat, cutting off his voice and snapping his neck, before his body split into many tendrils that dragged everything inside.

As a new set of memories bloomed in his mind, Alex understood.

The man he just grabbed- he used to be in Manhattan. Blacklight chuckled in face of the ridiculous coincidence. He was one of the Marines, one that had seen the infection from the beginning to the end. He had seen  _him_ tear through his companions, had seen how everything went to shit. He walked out of Manhattan a changed man, estranged by his family. He went to the riot business. He had managed to keep up a strong facade, but when he faced a man who was near unstoppable that displayed inhuman powers, his old buried panic resurfaced. He fled the place, seeking his salvation in escape- only to run directly into the nightmare he never wanted to see again.

But through him, Alex learnt a few important facts: The courier was what the riot cop's bosses called a  _conduit_ . And the one in charge was called  _Moya_ . He didn't know much about the woman, only that she had some serious back-up in the form of a General named Bridges.

Alex flinched at the sound of gunfire and screaming. His keen sense of smell picked up the scent of blood, of gunpowder, of metal.

He didn't need to look to understand what happened.

The lock down was working. And they just gunned down everybody who tried to escape.

He felt no pity for the humans who had foolishly believed they could escape so easily. Killing civilians was wrong, even in his book, but he had long since learnt that  _stupid_ civilians deserved every bullet into their direction. People who lingered in areas that were clearly hazardous for their health, people who tried to run down a tank with their fists- all such things. It just made Alex realize how  _stupid_ humans were.

At the same time, however, the rage inside him was building. Stupid people were one thing- but soldiers opening fire at their own species, at humans who were only  _afraid_ and desperate, reminded him too much of Blackwatch. Of how they laughed when they burnt families alive.

He scowled. He couldn't go down there though, he couldn't tear through their turrets and show them who they made their enemy.

He promised Dana, after all.

With a low growl, he turned away from the massacre on Stampton Bridge. There were better things to do than watch humans kill each other over nothing more than an idea. They did this way too often anyways.

He just hoped the courier wasn't among the idiots, because that would be a pity.

 


	6. Mysterious Signals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole gets his first mission from Moya. Meanwhile, Alex is doing his own thing.

** Mysterious Signals **

 

It was in the early afternoon when Alex returned to the central clinic to check up on Dana. He didn't like leaving her alone for too long in dangerous territory anyways, so he made a habit of coming back every few hours and look after her. This habit had formed after they had left Manhattan and settled down in Miami. Back then they lived in the recently-cleared-out hideout of a bunch of drug dealers, just long enough for Dana to find a place to rent.

It had been dangerous, yes, but now with all those Reapers running around the Neon, Miami seemed like a walk in the park.

Unless he managed to bring their numbers down to a tolerable level, Alex wouldn't leave his little sister alone for long. He was aware his actions could become suspicious- that large amount of people couldn't disappear otherwise- but here the situation in itself played to his favor. In a city overrun with violence and crime, his actions remained hidden- as long he did not display his more obvious powers while witnesses were present.

He could almost say he actually enjoyed it. Of course, with this 'plague' going on, the nagging feeling that Blackwatch would sooner or later roll in to do their job remained. It was a miracle they didn't already- in Manhattan they managed to lock everything down within a few days. Here in Empire though, Alex hadn't even seen a glimpse of black uniforms. Maybe he should call Cross and figure out what was going on- but that would probably taunt Murphy's law. They never talked either, unless it was an emergency. And the only way they got messages from him were through Heller's sporadic communication attempts anyways- but the Evolved was even worse of a conversationalist than Alex was. And that meant something.

He was going to need to contact that bastard anyways soon enough, though. Dana had suggested having him check the serial numbers of the guns on the street, and have them delegate to Heller for confirmation. From his latest victim, Alex hadn't learnt much- and that guy was in a better mental state than the Reapers were. The soldier was the one he got at Stampton Bridge, but all he was aware of was that the gangs suddenly had big guns they weren't supposed to have.

He didn't even get much about that Moya woman. It was a bit disappointing, and it meant he would either have Dana check her out or do it himself by hacking into secure files. Not that Dana was unable to do that- but Alex was more skilled than she was. Also, she was constantly over-worked with the sick people in the clinic, so it would be nice of him to do the hacking himself, no matter how  _boring_ it was .

But Dana also  _lived_ for hacking. Best was to let her decide what to do.

He moved through the currently empty hallway to Dana's office/room. Since they lost their home in the blast, Alex had taken everything that was important to them from their destroyed apartment to this clinic here, where Dana occupied a room to work in.

He paused, listening. There was a second voice coming from the office, one he knew. But that one didn't know him very well in his normal appearance- hoodie or not. Usually, he rarely had contact with other humans outside of the vigilantes, so most of them wouldn't recognize him. Alex inclined his head and fell apart into a near shapeless mass of creeping tendrils. The transformation didn't take longer than a second, and when it settled, he was back in his disguised form. He took a moment to settle down, before he moved again.

He nudged the door open and entered, the conversation stopping for a moment so he could scan the room. The nurse, Trish, was there with Dana. He inclined his head, watching her closely. Her eyes were puffy and red, her hair was a mess. She had cried, recently and a lot too. Dana herself looked downcast too. Alex wondered what had happened. So he tilted his head questioningly towards his sister. Dana sighed and led Trish over to sit on the couch she usually slept on. As the nurse sat down, she wiped her eyes again.

“Is this about this bullshit that was on TV?” Dana asked. Alex's head snapped up, eyes narrowing. He knew _exactly_ what she was talking about. The 'Voice of Survival' had shown the footage from before the explosion- how this courier handled the bomb before it went up. It looked pretty suspicious- especially since he got superhuman abilities from it, but then again, what terrorist would handle a bomb in public? And what terrorist would blow it up with himself still in proximity? Aside from suicide bombers, that is.

That courier didn't seem to be either, so Alex couldn't understand why the people suddenly believed him to be responsible. Either mankind had gotten even more stupid during the last years, or the situation in the city was even worse than he imagined, leading to their total mental degradation.

Anybody with a bit of brain would see the holes in that logic.

Dana frowned. “Listen, I doubt that Cole would ignite a bomb. Hell- I doubt he would've even been able to  _build_ a bomb able to take out six blocks downtown.”

“I know”, Trish sobbed, “But-it's something else-” She wiped her eyes again. “Cole- he-he got some _Superpowers_. He said he got them through the explosion”, she sniffled, “ _Thousands_ are dead- _Amy_ is dead- and he walks away from the _center_ of the blast with a few burns and Superpowers!” She sobbed, staring at her knuckles. “I _know_ it isn't _his_ fault- but somebody _wanted_ to do that. Thousands are dead because of him.”

“But Cole isn't to blame. It's not like he wanted to get blown up.”

“I know”, Trish replied with teary eyes, “But- I don't understand any of it.” She stared at Dana. “I'm so worried about him. Somebody set him up for that- and I have seen him getting _shot at_. He will constantly be in _danger_.”

Dana blinked, understanding on her face. “I just love him so much”, Trish admitted, “I don't want to see him hurt.”

Alex tilted his head in confusion. If she loved him, then why did she leave him? Why did she walk away if she should have stayed and been what the guy needed?  
Humans. He would never understand them.

Dana, however, seemed to understand. She sighed and crossed her arms. “Okay. You'll stay here with me until we managed to sort this out.” She nodded at Alex and gestured for the door. They walked outside, leaving the nurse to wallow in her misery.

“What's wrong with her?” Alex asked, glancing at Dana.

“She's confused”, Dana replied. “Like, whoa.” She shrugged. “Imagine that, the guy she's known for _years_ not only survives being at the center of an explosion that killed everybody else, but he also got shiny new Superpowers from it. An explosion that killed her little baby sister and a whole lot of people she knew and grew up with- you need to understand that Amy was the last of her family she had left. Of course she was _devastated_. And when that TV Jacker suddenly blamed her boyfriend for everything, her world broke down.”

Alex snorted.

Dana sighed. “I know you don't understand her. But try to. She's confused at the moment. I'll try to work her, but what she needs is time. And space. I don't think she actually blames Cole for what happened- but she does need an outlet.”

This was something Alex understood. Just like Karen, then. She had been forced into making that parasite, had been the face he went after once he was cured of the thing. Karen had just been an outlet for his rage, but never wanted to betray him in the first place. Fear for her life had managed to make her do things she wasn't going to do normally.

She was just lucky he managed to figure that out before he sought her out, otherwise this would have ended in a blood bath.

With the courier it was the same- he was just the face somebody pasted across the entire mess, the scapegoat everybody turned their rage towards.

He inclined his head, watching Dana. “What she said- it made sense”, he muttered. “This blast had not been an incident. The courier has gotten abilities. The city gets locked down. Gangs suddenly get their hands on high-end weapons. That guy is suddenly the center of attention and everybody with a gun is going to try to take a pot-shot at him.” His eyes narrowed. “This looks like...a test.”

“Test?”

“Somebody _wanted_ that guy to get abilities. Abilities he _had_ to use, if he wanted to survive. I have seen it, Dana. They way he fought a sheer number of foes at once- and he was the one to walk away from it.” He frowned unhappily. “Somebody had prepared all of this. Killed thousands _and_ endangered your life. And I _will_ find out who.”

Dana inhaled sharply. “You cannot be seen, Alex. With those military fucks running about, Blackwatch would probably be here within the blink of an eye. And you know what they'll do. If they don't get to you, they will nuke this entire city, murder millions- and sweep everything under the rug. Probably use Cole as a scapegoat just as they did you.”

Alex scowled. “Don't worry.”

Dana relaxed slightly. He knew she was aware he was going to keep his word, no matter what was going to happen.

“Dana, I have a request”, Alex continued. “Can you look for information about a woman named Moya Jones? It appears as if she is the one in charge here.” He paused. “Uh- if you want to and find the time, I mean. I could do it myself too, but I thought you'd want to?”

“Hell, don't take my favorite illegal pastime away from me”, Dana groused with a lopsided grin. “What do you expect from this?”

Alex smirked. “Information. A seat of power. A connection to the higher-ups. This woman has them. And I  _want_ them.”

Dana shuddered slightly. As she always did when reminded of his true nature. Yes, she had agreed to come with him, she  _knew_ exactly what he was- a thing, a weapon to be used- but she did not enjoy facing the harsh reality. Denial only worked for so long.

“Don't worry”, Alex told her, “I will make it quick and painless.”

Dana shook her body, before she tried to put that grin back on. It looked forced, and her eyebrows were a bit too quirked in the middle. Alex was good at reading faces and body languages. Dana didn't try to show it, but his true nature scared her.

“Hey”, He mumbled soothingly. “Don't be scared, okay? You know I would _never_ harm you.”

“Doesn't make me stop being any less creeped out”, Dana replied with a huff. She tried to grin at him, but it looked even more forced than the other one. “I still remember that guy that broke into our place in Detroit.”

Alex sniffed. He remembered the guy too. He'd broken a window in the assumption that there was only Dana living there. He didn't expect a walking Bioweapon attack him. Alex had quickly snuffed his life by splattering his skull with his knee, then consumed what was left (he even got the stains out of the floor, the walls and the ceiling). He had long learnt that, as long the brain remained intact, he could get memories. If he didn't want them- like those of the burglar- he saw no point keeping the central nervous system in one piece when he had his way with them.

Only, splattering a grown man and then devour what was left of him in front of Dana might have been a bit too harsh on her mental state. They didn't speak for days, mainly because Alex felt he had to keep his distance.

But Dana knew it was necessary for him to hunt, it was as natural to him as was breathing to her- and as long he tried to keep it subtle and not prey on the innocent civilians, then she couldn't deny him this instinct. It wasn't perfect, but it was the way they lived. And Alex  _was_ careful about who he hunted, who could see him or who knew about him.

“What are you going to do?” Dana asked, “Go out again?”

“I don't think so”, Alex replied thoughtfully. “Later tonight, maybe, but for now, I'll stick around.”

“Good”, Dana clasped her hands together. “I think Trish's going to be glad too. She is very fond of you, you know.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Wonder how long that'll stay this way once she figures out who I really am. Who you really are.” He glanced at his sister. “If she can't cope with her boyfriend ending up getting powers from an explosion he's being blamed for, then I wonder what'll happen if she figures out her best friend is the only sibling of America's top terrorist, and both had been lying to her the entire time.”

“We will never tell her”, Dana decided. “Hell, we can't tell her. It would be dangerous to her if she knew.”

Alex nodded silently.

* * *

 

Cole could tell Zeke was trying very hard to not flip completely. He had always been a fan of conspiracy theories and figuring out his best friend now was, in every sense of the word, the walking example of the  _X-Files_ , made him more excited than a terrier in a barrel full of rats. While he was more or less bouncing in his seat on their roof-mounted couch, he listened to Cole telling him what Moya had said. The courier himself only barely paid attention, speaking automatically. His mind was elsewhere.

He remembered the way the people were gunned down at the bridge. It almost made him want to throw up, but he fought that urge down. It was his fault they got so far in the first place, and that made him quite upset. He was the cause for dozens of people dying directly in front of his eyes, and their deaths would stay with him for the rest of his life.

Ever since he returned with Zek, there was only one thought running through his head. He would find the ones responsible- and he  _would kill_ them.

Rage wasn't unknown to him- he had flipped a few times, at his father, at his brother, even teachers and bosses- but the realization that he now suddenly had the  _means_ to actually do something was startling.

Cole wasn't a very violent person though. He had a short temper, yes, but was usually content with shouting at whoever had offended him. Never at Trish, though he and Zeke did have a few yelling matches in the past. It was when he got  _silent_ that things were going south. But the thought of actually  _killing_ somebody else was something he never really entertained. However, after those Reapers, he had started to realize just how  _easy_ it was. And Reapers- murderers, junkies, criminals- they didn't deserve his mercy anyways, since they didn't show him any either. An eye for an eye, maybe savage, but in this world nothing else worked. You either fought- or you drowned. And Cole was not going to drown.

He just hoped he wouldn't lose his own humanity. It was easy to fall, and so much harder to get back up.

Meanwhile, his mouth was working without any prompts from him. A part of his brain realized he was just in the process of describing the Ray Sphere to Zeke. “...and it drains neuro-electric energy”, he finished.

What a way to gain powers. Cole would have preferred another way, one that caused less casualties, but those things were in the past. All they could do was pick their things up and continue with what they had.

“I knew it!” Zeke burst out, “All the stuff I've been sayin'! Every word is true!” He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Government's in cahoots with a secret organization, the Ray Sphere...Damn. It all makes sense now.”

He was so positively  _giddy_ , he was bouncing up and down on the sofa. Cole frowned at him. “Calm down. You're going to hurt yourself.”

“That Ray Sphere must dish out powers to anyone controlling it”, Zeke claimed, “You gotta bring it back here.”

Cole rolled his eyes. Zeke stayed Zeke, apparently. That thing murdered thousands upon activation, and all he thought about was using it to get superpowers. “Sure”, he drawled. “I could use a side-kick.” One that draws all the bullets, for once. Man, the wounds had all but healed, but they still stung like a bitch. Plus, joking around was the best way to help get his mind of the many possibilities he would murder that Kessler person once they met.

“Aw, Hell with that”, Zeke groused, “Zeke Jebediah Dunbar is his own man!”

Cole paused, realizing the absurdity of the situation, but nevertheless couldn't help but voice it. “Your middle name is Jebediah?!”

“Yes it is”, Zeke replied with a grin. “After my grandfather. Strong man for a man his size.” He paused, frowning. “Uh, don't know where Zeke comes from, but I'm certain-”

“You need to take a nap”, Cole cut him off sternly, pulling off his best 'Older Brother' expression he could do, “And a bath.” He glanced at the darkening sky. “I got things to do.”

Zeke glared at him, before he threw his hands in the air. “Fine”, he relented and got up. “Party Pooper.”

Cole grinned at his friend's retreating back. He had no idea how the bastard did this, but sticking around Zeke always made him feel better.

His phone chimed and he picked it up. Probably Moya.

“ _I've already got a couple of leads for you”_ , she started. _“The coordinates have been uploaded into your phone. Give me a call when you're in position.”_ She clicked the radio off before he could reply. Figures. No 'hello'. No 'how are you?'. No 'I hope you managed the trip back on the underside of the bridge with no problem because I'm a stupid controlling bitch and just _had_ to kick you out on your ass'. Cole rolled his eyes and glanced at his phone to figure out where the location was. Much to his surprise the marker appeared just in front of him, on top of the tall building to the south of their apartment, judging by the marked height. He craned his neck to see the roof, then started moving with a heavy sigh.

The building had a smooth facade, and barely anything to hold onto. He did, however, spy a ladder on one side, just above the roof of a lower building.

Easy enough.

Cole jumped off Zeke's roof and hit the ground with a grunt and a roll. Even though he didn't hurt himself from falling anymore, he still went through the usual motions he learnt during his training. He jogged over the empty parking lot and glanced upwards. The smooth glass encircling the lower stories of this construction wasn't going to help him get up though. He headed sideways and around the complex. There was a rainwater pipe just to the side of the back door, allowing him to reach the second story with no great trouble. To reach the roof, he had to jump off the pipe and cling to the roof, then pull himself up. He wouldn't have managed this before the blast, by the way. His powers had greatly increased his strength, stamina and durability, allowing him to perform such complicated moves with ease.

They also enhanced his senses. There was a Reaper on the roof, shooting at the civilians down on the street, and Cole wasted no time to zap him once, sending him hurling three stories down.

He didn't feel remorse about what he did, and easily headed towards the rusty ladder without even looking after his latest victim. Two levels further up and on the roof, he stopped, wondering what the Hell he was supposed to look for anyways. He looked around, glanced behind the AC units and around the antenna on the roof for something that might interest Moya.

Seeing nothing, he rang her up.

“All right. Now what?”

“ _I'm picking up some weird interference from a rooftop not far from you”_ , Moya explained. _“You need to find its origin and purpose.”_ And here he thought he was to look for this John White fella. Huh.

“What am I looking for?”

“ _Not really sure”_ , Moya admitted, _“Probably a transmitter of some type. Call me when you get there.”_

Cole huffed and jumped off the roof, landing on one that was slightly further down the street and lower, then made his way on top of a large tower-like structure, utilizing various ledges and billboards. He never felt this way of freedom before, not even when he started Urban Exploration in New Marais. He wasn't even breathing hard when he reached the flat circular roof.

He send out a radar pulse, and it came back to him with an electronic disturbance. Intrigued, he pulled closer, finding...a thingy attached to the satellite dish. He wrecked his brain for a name, until he remembered what Zeke called stuff like that.

He tapped his phone. “Found it”, he declared. “Looks like a portable audio drive is attached to this satellite dish.”

Moya clicked her tongue.  _“See if you can listen to it with your phone.”_

Cole frowned, trying to remember what Zeke had told him about those things. He called them 'Dead Drops' and they were something city runners would use to message each other. He hadn't been a city runner himself, but some friends of Zeke were. He often said he should join them, because he was the best runner in Empire, second only to a girl called Faith. Cole never met her though, and didn't have a great desire to spend even more time jumping over roofs if he didn't get paid for it. He liked parkour, but his job left him exhausted enough as it was.

Cole tapped a button at the device, and switched his phone to 'Record'. Static and garbled noises reached his ears. He snorted. “Sounds like a bunch of garbage.”

“ _It's an encrypted message”_ , Moya noticed. Cole heard keys clack when she fell silent for a moment. _“I can't break it”_ , she eventually grumbled. _“See if you can find another one. I can cross-reference them then.”_

Cole arched his brows. Moya was a demanding and bossy woman, but she had awesome toys. Plus she would clear his name too, so he was willing to let it pass. He concentrated, letting his Radar Senses pick up everything around him. He winced at the sudden increase of electrical noise all around him, but there was something tugging at the edge of his mind. Another Dead Drop? He glanced into the direction he felt the pull from and focused, trying to fade out everything that was not the signal. He climbed atop the billboard, frowning. It was there, somewhere in the closer area of the Neon.

He glanced down at the street easily ten or so stories beneath. He swallowed, remembering how jumping off Archer Square's statue didn't even shake him, and jumped off. For a brief, panicky moment, he feared he'd splatter on the ground and he flailed with his arms, but then he hit the ground with a solid  _thud_ and everything was okay. Cole blinked, looking back up from where he just jumped. “That was...easy”, he muttered. Didn't even rattle his teeth. Actually, he  _enjoyed_ the jump. He send out another Radar Pulse and found the nearest Drop on top of another building just down the street. He started moving, quickly as there were still some people. By now, his picture had made the round throughout the whole city, and pretty much everybody was out for his blood. He'd better stick to the rooftops for now. He hopped off the ground and latched onto the first window sill with his right hand. He didn't stop to place his other hand though, and threw his body upwards with a light kick against the wall, grabbing the ledge just above the window, then pushed off again and grabbed the next window sill. Cole paused, frowning. He was hanging from one hand, had only one foot against the window below, and didn't find the position in any way uncomfortable.

Huh. Superpowers. Awesome.

Cole had never scaled a five-story building that fast. As he pulled himself over the edge, he glanced back down to make sure he had just been at street level.

He grinned.

A bullet bit into his shoulder painfully, making him stagger to the front with wide eyes. Reapers. Here. On the roof.

They really were everywhere, huh? Cole scowled at them, electricity sparking out of the injury on his shoulder as it grew shut again, pushing out the metal ball while at it. The Reapers weren't bothered in any way by it and tried to attack him, but Cole only flung out one arm, smacking them with a Shockwave and throwing them off the roof. No mercy, no regrets.

He didn't even bother watching them meet the concrete below as he hurried over the roof and jumped up on the side of a billboard. Like before, digging his fingers into a near-invisible crack was more than enough for him to find the required grip. He lunged upwards, reaching the roof above the billboard with laughable ease. He headed towards the metal grates of another brightly colored neon billboard and balanced along it. Any other time, he would have said that anybody who was doing this in the early night time without any proper security measures was suicidal- but now he couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of freedom. The soft breeze stroked past his body as he climbed along the wall, unseen by the people down there. To any other, this would be dangerous, but Cole just felt... _happy_ he could see the world like no-one else could.

It was easy reaching another eaves and latch onto another rainwater pipe to scale the building.

Again- he didn't even feel an ounce of fear as he balanced precariously along the edge, glancing down. The feeling of freedom was just too much. There was no other word for it. Cole felt drunk on it, high- and it was absolutely  _amazing_ . He laughed out, feeling the wind rushing over him.

“ _If you're done being crazy, will you please continue what you were supposed to do?”_ Cole's jaw snapped shut and he glared irritated at his phone. Of course, Mrs I-don't-pay-you-for-being-happy had to shoot him down. With a grumbled explicit (he made sure she could still understand it), he scaled the last roof and stood in front of another satellite dish.

Garbled and broken voices reached his ears, and he frowned.

“Hear that?” he asked his partner, “Same thing as before.”

“ _I'm running the signals through an encryption program on this end”_ , Moya explained. _“I've almost cracked it, but I need another sample.”_ Cole snorted, knowing what she would say next. _“Look around for more of those files.”_ Yup. Called it.

Cole turned, activating his Radar Pulse again and checking the area. The next one came from further down the block. He moved towards a high-voltage wire suspended between the roof he was on and another one across the wide street, and hopped on. It swayed from the combination of his weight and the wind breeze, but it didn't bother the courier too much. He moved over it, his arms held to either side lazily. Cole doubted he'd actually need them to keep his balance, because his entire body was constantly correcting his position, allowing him to head over the wire without even swaying. His sense of balance was inhuman. At this rate, he could probably stand with one toe on a pinprick and zap people all around him without even stumbling off.

He stopped in the middle of the wire, eyes narrowing. He could make out the satellite dish in a distance- and four Reapers around it. He could see their guns glint in the artificial light from below, and he saw the riot shields two of them held.

Cole snorted and sped up, running the last few feet across the wire before he ran over the roof, jumping off at full sprint to avoid being shot. He hit another roof in a roll, then dove towards the wall of the complex with the satellite dish. He latched onto the brick ledges and pulled himself two stories up. By now, the Reapers had changed their position, trying to take him out from above, but that was when Cole struck. Using his free hand, he unleashed several lightning bolts to make the guys stagger back, giving himself enough time to pull his body over the roof edge and face the four. Without waiting, he threw his hands to the front and smacked them with his Shockwave, sending them careening off the roof and to their demise.

The Dead Drop was easily accessible now. Cole knelt down and activated it again, listening to the broken record once more. “That's the last one.”

“ _Give a second”_ , Moya replied, followed by the sound of her fingers tapping her keyboard. _“All right. That should do it. I'm uploading a decrypting algorithm to your phone. It should let you listen to the messages.”_ Cole blinked. He wasn't even aware his phone _could_ do that.

He crouched down to listen.

“ _I couldn't stop Kessler from detonating the Ray Sphere”_ , a man's voice spoke up with a breathless tone. Cole heard Moya gasp. She was maybe a controlling bitch, but apparently, she was also incredibly worried for her husband. Cole could understand that.

It made his heart wrench a little when thinking of Trish, but if there was one way to clear his name, it was through Moya's help.

“ _Damn thing took out five or six square blocks, killed God knows how many”_ , John's voice continued. _“Found the Ray Sphere in the blast crater, next to some kid. Dunno if he was dead or not, didn't have time to check.”_ Cole winced slightly. Oh god. This guy had been _right_ next to him. _“I'm going to try and hole up somewhere”_ , John continued. _“If anyone is even listening to these things, I need immediate extraction.”_ The man paused, as if listening to something. _“Please. You've got to get me out of here before Kessler finds me.”_

The voice was cut off. Cole frowned. “You understand any of that?”

“ _I don't believe it”_ , Moya whispered, _“That's John. He must have used Dead Drops to communicate with his handlers.”_

Cole blinked. “Uhm...English?”

Moya sighed.  _“It means there are probably more of those scattered around the city. You should try to find as many as you can. They might tell us where he took the Ray Sphere.”_

Back to being a bossy bitch. Great.

“Find John and Ray Sphere”, Cole summed up, “And I'm out, right?”

“ _I know the deal, Cole.”_

“Just making sure.”

The phone went silent again, though he knew she was still listening. Huh.

Cole scratched his scalp, wondering what he could do now. Return to Zeke? He didn't leave too long ago, and there was still a lot to do. He could try out his powers.

The night was still young.

He frowned for a moment, before he decided to look for the clinics around town. He wasn't to be blamed for the explosion- and he had the Dead Drop message to prove it. He could show it to Trish, have her learn the truth, ask to start new.

And even if he didn't find her- the Reapers were starting to turn into a real menace. He had powers now, so he could easily knock them down all the pegs to get them to back off and leave the Neon alone, if only to finally find some peace and not being constantly shot at. Cole snorted. Yeah, taking out the Reapers was personal to him, but if it helped to keep those other idiots off his back, then he wouldn't complain. If he took out enough gang members, then the civilians would probably be too afraid to do something against him.

Not that he cared about those idiots and their opinion of him anyways- there were a grand total of two people in the entire city he gave a shit about- and one of them probably never wanted to see him again.

He started moving, dropping down onto the street just to climb another building at the other end of the street to reach the safety of the rooftops again. He found a few Reapers shooting at random, so he took them out with no trouble. Most of them didn't even see him coming until several hundred volts slammed into them and send them falling to their doom.

As he headed towards the nearest clinic, he became aware of more shooting. Cole threw his body to the side to change direction, then rushed towards where he heard the gun shots crack.

He lunged across another roof, then rushed over a wire suspended between two buildings, scaled another facade and hopped over AC units. He was moving fast, fast enough to find a small group of civilians with big guns trying to keep Reapers at bay.

Cole wondered briefly where they got the weapons from, until he realized that they had no idea how to shoot and were about to be overrun. He jumped off the roof, charging lightning all around him. When he hit the ground in front of the Reapers, he send about half of them flying. The others flinched back and turned to aim at him. Cole scowled and unleashed several lightning bolts, frying those idiots while also moving rapidly to take cover behind a low wall. This time, he was quick enough to avoid being hit by bullets.

He paused for a moment, sending out his Pulse to map the area. He noticed the Reapers running around the wall to get a better shot at him, but they all came from  _one_ direction. He smirked, charged up and just waited. 

Once the gang members came around the corner, Cole send out a massive discharge, knocking all of them back.

Not a single Reaper remained standing, while Cole got up and dusted his pants off.

The civilians stared at him with wide eyes, rifles trembling.

Cole frowned at them, then took a step towards them. They flinched back, weapons going up to target him. He stopped. “Until now, I have been nice”, he said in a low tone, “Though if you fire those guns, it won't hurt me, but I  _will_ take it personally.”

They backed off fearfully. “Good”, the courier grunted. He glanced at the men, finding the guy that looked like he was the one in charge. “You”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” Cole curled his finger. “Come over here for a moment, will you?”

The man frowned, glancing at the lightning still rushing over Cole's arms. The courier sighed and pulled the sparks back. “Listen, I just want to ask you something.”

The man didn't seem convinced, but still carefully stepped towards him. “What is it?”

“The guns”, Cole asked, “Where do you have them from?”

“Used to be Reaper's”, the 'captain' explained.

“Really?” The courier tilted his head. “And how did you get them?” These guys _are_ about as useful as beached jellyfish in a fight, after all.

“Some guy gave them to us”, the man explained.

“Some guy?”

“Yeah. Heard he's doing that stuff for a while now- he gets his hands on Reaper weapons and gives them to us to fend 'em off. Sometimes helps us if we have problems. Never seen a better shooter. Guess he's military.”

“What does he look like?”

The man shrugged. “Not like much. Skinny guy, tall, dark hair in slight curls. White shirt. Jeans...”

The courier hissed. “Blue eyes?”

“Yeah. That's him.” Great. The guy who _splattered_ two Reapers at once. Cole had hoped to not see him too soon again...but then again...

He frowned. “Where is he now?” Guy like that  _might_ be helpful taking back the Neon, after all.

“No idea. He just vanishes after he's done.”

_Great_ . “Any idea where to?”

“The other clinics, I heard.”

Cole paused. Might be worth checking out then. He turned to go, but was stopped by the man clearing his throat.

“You- you're the guy from television, right?”

“And if I was?” He growled.

The man twitched slightly. “Uhm- well, if you want my opinion- that looked pretty much like fake news. Guy like you can't be a bad guy, right?”

Cole scowled, half confused, half angry. The man didn't even know  _half_ of it. But if there was  _one_ guy thinking like that, then maybe there were more. Maybe  _helping_ people had its merits. The more saw how he really was, the less he had to worry about waking up with a bunch of guys about to lynch him. But he didn't trust easily. As far as he knew, those guys could be planning something. Better keep to himself then.

“Don't mention it”, he grunted, then stalked away.

* * *

 

Dana and Trish had left the clinic. Every available doctor and nurse had been called to stand ready. It appeared there had been an incident with several people who suddenly got sick. Alex had stayed behind. He waited for most of the personnel to leave, before he started to move down the hallways. The central clinic was, because it was the one Dana was at, the one best defended. With Alex's help, not many Reapers dared coming here anyways. And that also meant that here were the most weapons.

Weapons Alex had taken off the gangs in Empire. Arms they weren't supposed to have  _at all_ . 

He glanced around to make sure nobody was there to witness him, before he shifted into his usual appearance, sans hood and jacket. In this shape, the people here knew him as the guy who helped fending off Reapers. They had asked for his name a few times, but Alex never told them. He just appeared before them, gave them weapons, ammunition, food or supplies, or fought off a few bastards, and vanished again.

So nobody was going to bat an eye at him wandering the clinic. If anything, they were assuming he'd check up on supplies.

Which was true for tonight.

Alex headed to a previously empty storeroom in the basement. Originally filled with filing cabinets and old or rarely-used medical equipment, it became their little armory after they fortified everything.

Two Vietnam Veterans stood in front of the entrance. They and a few others had volunteered to guard the stash and train the other militia.

Both glanced at him as he approached, before they clacked their heels together and saluted him. “Sir.”

“At ease”, Alex replied with his gravely tone. No matter how often they saw him, they always did that military crap Alex was only all too familiar with. Sometimes he wondered what they would think if they knew he was the one to have thrown America into chaos, who murdered thousands of their brothers-in-arms. Would they try to fight him?

He snorted. Old men and inexperienced civilians. They wouldn't last a minute, even if he toyed with them. Hell, he could easily take out an entire street worth of enemies with a single Whipfist swing, these people here won't stand a chance.

“Need a new rifle?” One of the veterans asked. Alex never bothered learning their names.

“No”, he answered. “Just need to check something.”

They nodded and he walked through the door, closing it behind him. He looked around. Assault rifles, shotguns, hunting rifles, sniper rifles and a wide assortment of handguns were stacked against the walls. Now, it  _was_ laughable easy getting weapons like that,  _especially_ in America, where you could almost get them from vending machines, but it was  _impossible_ to have them in such quantities. 

Someone must be supplying these guys. But what for?

Alex snorted and grabbed the closest assault rifle. It was a M16, a model he was familiar with. Very familiar, because they have been the first weapons to impact their bullets into his chest, back when he woke up at Gentek.  _Good memories._

Alex turned the weapon around, pulling it apart. With the ease and security of several hundred soldiers at his disposal, he dismembered the thing, glancing at every piece. They were nearly brand-new, and in good condition- which counted against the idea that they were old models.

He frowned, glancing at the number etched into the barrel. The number didn't mean anything to him, and he did lack the ability to check it, but he knew someone who could.

He glanced around suspiciously, as if somebody might be lurking into the corner, before he tapped into the Hivemind. His world was dyed in dark tones of red and brown, and only he glowed with an unnatural white aura. The Hivemind was silent. Not like in Manhattan, when millions of voices were talking at once. Now, only two voices remained. His own voice, loud like a thunderstorm, and the much more silent one of his Evolved.

“Heller”

He felt the other man flinch over their connection. It was rare for them to communicate, even though neither of them were solitary by nature. But they also despised the other, and did not enjoy being together. Heller and Alex- they were like mongoose and snake.

“ _Fucking Hell, Mercer”_ , Heller grated through their connection. _“What is it?”_

“Are you aware of the situation in Empire City?”

There was a mental silence.  _“I am. Terrorists blow up half the city, city gets locked down, people have to be supplied via air drops. Heard of it.”_

“What do the news say?”

“ _Hell. People are doing fine. Not good, but fine.”_

Alex barked a short laughter. Amusement was rare for him, and it made Heller nervous. Understandably.

“Sure. And the people _starving_ in the streets are just my imagination.”

“ _Fuck. Do we have another Manhattan here?”_

“It's not that bad yet, but yes. It's similar.”

“ _Fucking Hell.”_

“That's not why I contacted you, though.”

“ _No?”_

“Listen. Here are too many guns on the street. And I mean the stuff you would wet yourself for. Assault Rifles, RPGs, everything you can name. I want to know where they came from, but the people who use them are of no great help.”

Heller sighed.  _“You got a serial?”_

“I have.” Alex shifted the barrel and glanced at the number, the muted world of the Hive Mind requiring him to be closer to read it. He told it to the Evolved.

“ _I'll look into it”_ , he said. _“Got to find an excuse to do so, though. People might get fucking suspicious if I pull a serial number out of my ass.”_

“Do that”, Alex replied. He paused for a moment. “Another favor, Heller?”

Heller snorted.  _“What else?”_

“Who is Moya Jones?” He asked as he started to put the rifle back together.

“ _Moya Jones? Never heard of that name.”_

“She seems to be in charge here in Empire.”

“ _I'll see what I can find out. Just a question, though: Why don't you open your own can of Mind Fuck, see what you'll find?”_

“I don't want Blackwatch to know where I am. I have no great desire to see another city go up in nuclear Hellfire.”

“ _Yeah. Fucks, all of them.”_ He gave a mental shrug. _“I'll check things out.”_

Alex nodded to himself. “Good.” He halted with a frown. “And...Dana told me to say hi.”

“ _Tell her the offer's still valid”_ , Heller replied with a much softer tone. “ _Maya misses her.”_

“Not a chance”, Alex smirked. “She doesn't want to let me out of her eyes.”

“ _Smart girl. Who knows what a bastard like you's gonna fuck up.”_

Alex rolled his eyes. “Do me favor, shove a gun up your ass and fire, Heller.”

“ _Only if you start with a Thermobaric Shell on yourself, bastard.”_

The Evolved cut the connection. Alex placed the rifle back where he got it and left the Hive Mind. One problem less. As much as he loathed Heller, he could trust him to do the things correctly on his side. Now he only had to wait.

But who said he had to wait here? He could always hunt some more Reapers, and now, with the late hour, there wouldn't be too many people out.

A grin appeared on his face as he turned and headed back outside. It was time to stretch his claws again.

 


	7. Blood Trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole learns some more tricks- and runs quickly into trouble. Must be his charm or something.

**Blood Trail**

 

It wasn't even ten yet as Cole moved through the Neon District. Moya hadn't called again, and he didn't have any desire to return to Zeke just yet. He was much too worked up from what happened during the day. Not only he had been called a terrorist, his girlfriend had left him, he also inadvertently had led a group of people to their demise, started working with a shady governmental woman and discovered how powerful he really was.

There was a lot of pent-up aggression and anxiousness still whirling through his body and he had to let them out somehow.

He found beating up Reapers was a great outlet.

He jogged along the rooftops, looking for red hoodies and for people who might be either John White or the guy from Archer Square. Instead, he saw many people just sitting in the streets, moaning in pain, and even more searching through trash for anything to eat. It made Cole frown unhappily. The feds did drop some food, but it was far too little to feed all of the people here. Nobody was there to help them. There must be some way to relieve them, he wondered. Some little way, even if only fixing what went wrong.

He sighed in annoyance. Again, it looked like he was the only one who could have the possibilities to do something, even though he did not feel they deserved it.

They did try to capture him, after all.

But then again, they only tried because they had no better idea, because they were desperate. He wondered whether he would be doing the same thing if he was in their shoes.

He paused, glancing up at a familiar voice.  _“In case you haven't heard”_ , the TV Jacker claimed from a hacked billboard at the street,  _“There's a massacre at Stampton Bridge.”_ Cole growled and hurried off, fighting down the urge to just  _blast_ that bloody screen. He never liked that bastard anyways, and even less so since he branded him a terrorist. He really should search for him and give him a piece of his mind, maybe fry his electronics along with him. He really didn't care that this might hurt the public opinion of himself, but just the  _look_ on that idiot's face once he's done with him would be  _so_ worth it.

With a grunt, he turned away and scaled a four-story building in under three seconds flat. Again, he was amazed with his increase in speed, power and stamina. It were only roughly eight hours since he realized the  _full_ potential of his abilities, and he already didn't want to trade them for anything in the world. He was certain he wouldn't even want to give them up if it meant turning back time and prevent all of this from ever happening. Almost.

He found three more Reapers and fried them just for closure, until he groaned and doubled over, panting.

He felt drained from running around and zapping people.

Cole huffed and turned his attention towards an AC unit and spread his arms to drain it. In an instant, he felt completely  _fine_ again. He wasn't tired anymore and he wasn't as hungry as before. The only thing that hadn't changed was his thirst, so he plopped down on the edge of the roof and pulled a plastic bottle from his bag, unscrewed the cap and took a sip from it. He glanced upwards, wondering once more about himself.

It appeared as if he could replace great amounts of food and even sleep by just recharging himself, could heal from injuries near-instantly, though even he was aware that there were limits  _somewhere_ . Normal  _human_ limits. He knew he should probably figure them out before he bit something off that was too much for him to chew.

Like, he wasn't sure what would happen if he got shot into the head from close-up. Would it have an effect at all? Would he die? Would he be just knocked unconscious?

As far as he knew, he was still mostly human, even though he was a lot tougher than normal people. Maybe he shouldn't tempt fate too much. Better safe than sorry, eh?

He phone rang. Cole blinked at the number. Moya again.

He clicked the button to reply. “What now?”

“ _One of my contacts, an electrician named Brandon Carey, didn't check in last night”_ , the woman told him. As always, straight to the point. While socially not quite adept, it was effective, Cole had to admit. _“He's pretty important”_ , Moya continued, _“So you need to find him.”_

“And where should I look? I don't even know what he looks like”, Cole wanted to know.

“ _He was last seen in the alley across the street from Archer square.”_

She ended the call again, and Cole got up with a sigh, putting away his bottle. He had a pretty good idea where that was. He knew of a small-time electronic shop near Archer Square, had often delivered packages there or- one time- called one of their men to fix their broken fuse box.

He started moving, sticking to the rooftops as much as possible. The way his body balanced itself, even when jumping onto a swaying wire, was incredible. It was as if there was no way for him to ever fall off from somewhere, bar the ground collapsing beneath him.

He grinned. Let's see Zeke say again that this runner girl was in any way better than him now.  
Okay, maybe he was being childish, but what else was to do there?

He was on top of a eight-story apartment building near Archer Square. Without bothering to check the height, he jumped off the roof and hit the ground in a roll, unharmed and much to the surprise of a few pedestrians around. If he was moving fast enough, nobody would recognize him.

He made his way away from the main street and into a side alley, weaving his way past burning oil barrels filled with trash that spewed black smoke. With the electricity being rationed, people looked for different ways to keep warm.

Cole snorted to prevent inhaling the fumes, and hurried along a parking lot, then turned right to head to the electronics store.

He didn't see anybody who looked like an electrician...he didn't see anybody, period.

But there was a weird large lump on the floor. Cole frowned and moved closer, carefully checking the area with his Radar Pulse to scan for dangers. There wasn't anybody hidden, but...Cole furrowed his brows. There was a weak charge coming from the lump in front of him.

Curious, he stepped closer.

_Squish_

Cole stopped and stared down at his shoe. Blood stuck to the sole. His eyes widened, when he finally realized just  _what_ it was that was in front of him.

A dead woman.

He swallowed and carefully knelt down next to her to check her more closely. She lay face-down in the dirt, her blonde hair fanned around her head and stained dark with blood. Cole exhaled slowly and carefully reached out to touch her. She was still warm, and the blood was still fresh. So she didn't die too long ago.

Probably Reapers, he thought darkly when he noticed the faint smell of gun powder.

He clicked his phone on. “Your boy isn't here, Moya”, he muttered, “Just a dead woman.”

“ _A woman?”_ Moya asked, _“That...doesn't make any sense.”_

Of course she didn't care. Cole wondered what kind of stick stuck up her ass if this left her that cold. But then again, she had probably seen more dead bodies than he ever had, given her job.

He glanced at the body again, slowly turning her over to see her face. She looked like forty or fifty maybe, and was a pretty thing. He sighed, laying her gently down again. Nothing he could do here anymore.

_Wait..._

He frowned again. He could still feel some electrical charges nearby- inside the body. Not unusual. Every living organism did contain electricity- the nervous system communicated with the body via synaptic discharges, and even with death, they didn't disappear immediately. Cole, now a human battery just as much as he was an electrical sensor, was able to  _sense_ those.

He wondered whether he could  _read_ a person's memories, which were, per definition, nothing more than electrical signals in the brain. This woman wasn't dead for long, so maybe there were still some residual energies left?

“Hang on”, he muttered into his phone, hoping Moya would get the message and shut up to let him concentrate. He touched the woman's temples and focused inside, giving off weak charges to re-activate her brain, even if only for a split second.

“ _Reapers!”_ A woman shrieked. Cole flinched back, whirling around. There was nobody...but he could have sworn she screamed right next to him.

His eyes widened.

Hell. He had just heard the dead woman's last words.

He blinked, staring at his hands. That was...impossible. And still...

Cole grit his teeth and tried it again, this time generating more power to get a clearer picture.

And this time, he could  _see_ what she saw.

He saw Reapers, approaching them from  _her_ perspective. He heard her voice inside his head, begging them to leave her husband alone. He saw him run, saw the Reapers aim and target her, before his vision was filled with a white-hot pain.

Cole jerked back, panting in panic, staring at the body.

He had just  _experienced_ the woman  _dying_ . He had seen her die. Hell, he  _knew_ who she was.

That was  _sick_ . 

He blinked, trying to get his brain to work. She had called his name, Brandon. Brandon Carey? Holy shit.

She was his wife. And he just  _read_ her memories.

“Whoa”

“ _What just happened?”_ , Moya asked, probably worried about his sharp hiss when he flailed back.

Cole grunted, not really understanding what had transpired. “I had a...vision?” He replied weakly. “About the Reapers kidnapping Brandon. He glanced at the body. This is his wife, Lynnae.” He grit his teeth, eyes slipping out of focus for a moment. It was almost as if...he could still  _see_ Brandon running away. “I can see the echo...of someone running away.”

“ _Follow it”_ , Moya ordered, though there was a certain...edge to her voice. As if she couldn't believe it either. _“We need to find out what happened.”_

Cole grunted and send out a Pulse, seeing the blurred trail going away from this place.

It wasn't so much a shadow of a person, as more their specific body-own synaptic charges leaving an individual trail behind. Cole was actually considering following the ionic charge of a person. Like a shark.

He wasn't so sure whether it was awesome, plain creepy, or both.

Cole took a step to the front, then paused and glanced back. He couldn't just let Lynnae lie here in the alley. There was a clinic nearby, he knew. And he did have the reading on Brandon now.

He knelt down and gathered the limp body into his arms, and sprinted out of the alleyway.

* * *

 

“ _What the Hell was that about?!”_ , Moya growled through the phone. Cole snorted and clicked the reply button.

“I couldn't let her lie in that alley”, he said as he pulled away from the Central Clinic. “Anything could have gotten to her.”

“ _People die all day”_

“But that doesn't mean we have to treat them like shit”, the courier bit back. He was in no mood to argue, so he cut the conversation and continued following the trail of Brandon's 'electrical smell'. He had passed several streets and alleyways that way, and his head was starting to hurt from the repeated Radar Pulses he used. 

Just as he pulled into a parking lot, however, his brain lurched and forced him to stop. He already knew what this particular sting meant.

_Danger_

His eyes narrowed on the lone figure standing at the other end. The figure noticed him too, and their head snapped up with a snarl.

A Reaper.

He wore a white hooded trench coat, no shoes like most Reapers and held a machine gun clenched between his fingers. Cole swallowed, charging up static electricity all around his arms. Somehow, he didn't like the feeling of that guy.

The Reaper snarled once, before he suddenly blinked out of existence, even before he got ready to line up a shot with him. Cole jerked back, eyes wide.  _Where did he go?_

_*Snarl*_

He whirled around, just in time to see the Reaper appear suddenly  _besides_ him. The Reaper meanwhile didn't waste any time as he slammed his hands into the ground, creating a tremendous shockwave that ran through the floor and cracked the asphalt. The sheer force from it hurled Cole backwards several yards, but also raced through his body, impacting into his internal organs like a massive fist. All breath was knocked out of his lungs and countless small blood vessels simply popped from the sheer force. Pain rushed through his system like a wildfire, as if countless  _alert_ signals blared to life at the same time. At the same time, the world had grown strangely mute, with only his pulse racing inside his ears. All of the colors were gone, leaving his vision in gray tones.

_Shit_

The Reaper snarled and vanished again. Cole swore and launched himself off the floor, ignoring the blinding pain. He had to get off the ground, so he leapt upwards and clung to a fire escape, then pulled his body up onto the metal grates of the stairs, just in time to avoid another shockwave attack. Cole grunted in pain and lifted his hand, shooting several bolts of lightning at the guy to make him back off- and most importantly, fry the gun in his hand.

The Reaper snarled, hooded head whipping up into his direction. Cole coughed once, feeling how his insides pulled themselves back together, before he got up and unleashed several Shockwaves of his own into the guy. The Reaper stumbled back, growling, until his back hit a car.

Cole scowled and switched back to lightning bolts. However, this time, he targeted the car. While most of the electricity dissipated harmlessly across its surface, he did short out the electronic inside- and more importantly, started cooking the gas in the tank. Once the ignition point was reached, the vehicle exploded in a glorious ball of fire, taking the Reaper with it.

The courier gave off another Radar Pulse to find the guy, but didn't find anything alive in the inferno.

With a groan, he sat back down, trying to catch his breath.

“ _Cole”_ , Moya called, _“What was that just now? You had static on your side.”_

“Reaper”, Cole replied with a pained groan as his ribs snapped back into position and fixed themselves. And he _felt_ it. Oh God. “Guy in white hood”, he described it. “Had some sort of... _powers_.”

“ _Powers?”_ Moya sounded surprised. _“What kind of powers?”_

“Could teleport”, he replied panting. “And had some sort of shockwave. Like mine, but...through the ground.”

Moya fell silent for a moment.  _“Shit”_ , she growled,  _“Kessler was right.”_

“What?”

“ _He assumed that there were more than just a few conduits. Rarer ones, but stronger, and more common ones, but weaker.”_ Moya sighed. _“Looks like you just met one of them.”_

Cole blinked. “There are more like me?!”

“ _It's a genetic trait, I told you. You are unique, but it is possible you'll meet more of those guys.”_

“Great”, Cole grunted. “Guy nearly fried me.”

“ _Then I suggest you'll be more careful”_ , Moya finished with a deadpan tone before she clicked the phone off.

“Bitch”, he growled. His heartbeat had calmed down, and the colors had returned. Cole carefully glanced down, flinching slightly when the ground blurred out of focus, before he gathered enough courage to drop down. His knees weren't as solid as they should be and his legs were shaking badly. He groaned and pulled himself towards another parked car to drain it of its battery charge.

Or that had been the plan. He blinked, realizing that there was no charge to be gained, while the battery died just the same moment. Though  _why_ came to him a moment later: With a moan, he draped his palm across his face. “Faraday Cage”, he bit out, “Physics eight grade.”

He wouldn't be getting a charge out of that car, not anymore, and all of the other cars weren't suited either, unless he managed to pry open the hood and get to the battery that way. Which meant he had to look for another source, though he quickly found one, in the form of a lamp at the side of the parking lot. He limped over and started to drain it, and this time the tell-tale arch of energy poured into his body until the discharge broke the light bulb. At least, he was feeling better again.

He shook his head in the darkness. “Okay, note to myself: Fry the guys in the white hoodies before anybody else.”

He closed his eyes and focused on Brandon's electrical trail. As soon he was sufficiently sure he had picked it up again, he started following the echo once more. A bunch of (normal) Reapers rushed towards him as he crossed a street. He wasted no time to smack them all back before he fried them violently, then continued his way. He wondered how these guys knew where the heck he was or whether they knew that he would follow the guy they had tried to kidnap before.

As he followed the echo, his phone rang again, followed by Zeke's agitated voice.  _“Pick up your damn phone!”_

“What's up?” Cole asked, carefully keeping an eye on the track Brandon left.

“ _The Feds, man, that's what up!”_ , Zeke's voice almost pitched. _“Watching our every move! Even caught one scoping out the roof.”_ Cole blinked, his movement slowing down slightly. Zeke and his paranoia...

“ _Was leaning against a wall down there”_ , his roommate continued, and Cole could imagine him waving his arms around. _“Eatin' a fresh apple. Now, you tell me, where the Hell'd he get that?!”_

Cole groaned. “I dunno Zek”, he replied, “But if we want out of here, this is the way it's got to be.” He got tired of his best friend's paranoia.

“ _C'mon man, don't be stupid!”_ , Zeke wailed, _“They'll ride you as long as they can- but the second you're no longer useful...BAM! You vanish! Permanently!”_

“I think all that conspiracy stuff has rotted your brain”

“ _Don't kill the messenger, brother. I'm just tellin' you like it is.”_

Cole grunted, eyes narrowing as he noticed a whole lot of, well,  _enemies,_ appearing on his internal map. He was close to the Empire City power station. Well, at least he wouldn't have to worry about being without juice.

“Listen Zeke”, he cut his friend off mid-rant. “There are a whole bunch of guys nearby, just waiting to take a pot-shot at me. I don't have time to talk yet, but we'll speak later.”

Zeke was silent for a moment, before he sniffed.  _“Okay man. Jus' be careful, okay?”_

Cole grunted and started moving. He spied three guys with guns, and was upon them before they could react. He zapped all of them rapidly, downing them before the others noticed what was going on. Then the whole group of Reapers was trying to take him down. Cole heard snarls and bullets pinging off the ground behind him. He swore and dove behind cover, then quickly darted out of it once he no longer heard shooting. One of the more heavier dressed Reapers noticed him and managed to put a few bullets into his shoulders, but Cole was driving mostly by adrenaline right now and could ignore their bite. Instead, he leapt at the guy and set both hands against his head, unleashing enough voltage to turn his brain into mush.

The others scattered, trying to shoot him from behind the transformers. Cole grit his teeth and unleashed more bolts, blowing the junkies up along with the obstacles they hid behind.  _Oops._

Hopefully these things weren't all too necessary.

Luckily, he managed to pick all of them off, except one. Cole spun around and leapt over a low fence to find the last Reaper standing near the main hub. In an instant, he realized that something was off with him. He wore a gray hoodie, and didn't have any sort of gun on him. He did, however, have several bulky packages strapped to his chest. As he became aware of the courier, he spun around, roaring nonsense, before he ripped two burning sticks into the air.

No. Not sticks.

_Dynamite_

Cole jerked back, but didn't manage to move in time when the guy ignited the packages around his torso. His eyes widened as he watched the guy burst into flames, shortly before the world around him was drowned out in a wordless shriek of superheated air and the loud crack of the blast. The shockwave wasn't as bad as the conduit's had been, but it was still enough to steal his breath for a moment. Cole found himself flung backwards several yards, and he hit one of the transformers hard. His head spun and his ears rang, but he was still alive. Singed, yes, but at least alive.

The same couldn't be said about the Reaper, though.

Or the electrical grid of the city.

Cole groaned, pitch-black darkness swallowing everything around him. His head felt strangely fuzzy and his eyes were unfocused.

“ _What the Hell happened?”_ , Moya's voice cut through the shadows and through the strangely muted world Cole saw. _“The entire Neon just went dark.”_

Cole groaned, trying to focus despite the raging headache. “That's 'cause one of those maniacs blew up a whole substation”, he told her. He moaned in pain, but tried to focus on Brandon's echo again. “Man”, he grunted to himself, “Brain feels like it's in a vise.”

Moya seemed alarmed.  _“Your body must be reacting to the absence of electricity”_ , she noted. Cole groaned again, and her voice turned hard.  _“You're going to have to man up and find Carey. If we don't restore the power, the Reapers will be unstoppable.”_

The courier grunted and tried to focus on the trail of Brandon instead. Okay, he could do that. Brandon first, then the electricity. He could work with that.

The trail...vanished. Cole blinked, trying to focus his blurry eyes, before he looked again. The trail was gone...on the street at least. He glanced down, eying the manhole cover on the ground.

Huh.

He could sense Brandon Carey somewhere down there- and he could sense rolling waves of electricity as well. The concrete and steel cut him off from it, but that wouldn't stop him. He dropped into a crouch and pulled the hundred-pound cover open, just enough for him to slip inside and let it drop shut over his head once more.

Didn't even strain a muscle.

Cole's nose scrunched up the moment his feet hit the tiled ground beneath.  _Right. Sewers._ At least down here was some electricity, enough for him to not feel all light-headed anymore. He let lightning rush over his arms in order to have some light, and glanced around. It wasn't ideal, and it smelled really bad. Oh God.

He was  _so_ going to need a shower after this.

But first things first: Find Brandon. Restore the power. Beat up a bunch of Reapers  _Thor_ Style. Then shower and sleep.

He clicked his phone on, pleasently surprised to find it responsive. Huh. Guesss whatever Zeke did to make it shock-resistant boosted its signal. Or maybe he himself boosted the signal through his powers.

“All right”, he told Moya, “I've tracked the echo to the sewers.”

“ _The Reapers must've needed Carey's help in shutting down the underground linear transformer. Find the transformer and figure out a way to get it back online. If they killed the circuit, find a way to re-establish it.”_ Moya informed him. Cole blinked.

“Uh” he started lamely, “I think I know a few of those words.”

Moya sighed and he could almost imagine her rolling her eyes.  _“A large sparking piece of machinery. Check whether both sides are powered. If not, figure out how to make them.”_

Okay. That he understood. He went to the edge of the platform he was on and peered into the darkness ahead of him. His nose scrunched up at the smell of the raw sewage beneath, but he could see something that glowed with the faint blue shine of electricity. Must be the transformer Moya talked about.

“ _Are you going to have problems finding your way down there?”_ , Moya asked.

“Nah”, Cole grinned slightly. “I got into Urban Exploration about four years ago. Crawled all over the city. I know these sewers like the back of my hand.”

“ _Good.”_ Moya cut the connection and Cole eyed the area.

A group of large tanks with a narrow walking edge around their middle fringed one side of the sewer canal, allowing access if one could climb. Good thing he was damn good at that.

Cole easily hopped against the first one and balanced himself there, then climbed along the side to reach the next one. Reaching the platform the transformer was on was laughable easy.

But...the courier swallowed at the sight of the thing. It was a massive construct, with wires and cables and two huge engines on either side. Only one part was sparking with a massive lightning discharge, the other was off.

Moya said to re-establish them, huh?

But how? Cole looked around, hoping to find something like...a high voltage cable or something, maybe a iron rod he could jam inside...

But there wasn't anything.

He paused, frowning. Wasn't  _he_ an electric conducter too? He did survive two electrocutions even when he didn't know about his powers, and he quite literally  _ate_ lightning.

Would it work if he closed the circuit long enough for the second half to start working?

Cole glanced at the machine, swallowing. This looked like it could turn a grown man into charcoal in an instant. Even to him, who was more or less immune towards lightning, it would probably be  _painful_ .

But he was really the only one who could do it, and Brandon counted on him. So Cole swallowed the doubts and leapt up, seizing both coils at the same time.

_Hurting_ wasn't even beginning to describe it. Cole gasped, before his jaw slammed shut when thousands of volts raced through his body. Every cell was  _burning_ , every nerve frying. Every single muscle cramped together. Cole groaned through his nose, eyes screwed shut as the voltage slammed through his body, scorching him from the inside. His legs bent, then his back arched. Everything  _hurt_ . 

But he didn't let go. Lightning lashed out of him and into the machine, closing the circuit and restarting the dormant side. Only when the second side started sparking, he finally let go, dropping back to flop against the grated floor while his body was still giving off energy. He was panting, trying very hard to not hyperventilate as the pain began to subside.

More even, there was something...different about him.

Every nerve tingled, every single of his senses had become sharper. He felt  _stronger_ , more powerful. His fingers twitched and a warm tingling feeling rolled through his body in waves.

He grunted and slowly sat up, glancing at the machine. It wasn't half-bad, actually. Would have been better without the 'whole burning from the inside' thing.

He became aware of moaning. He looked to the side, sending out his Pulse. He found somebody lying on the ground across the sewage canal. He jumped over, finding a very young teen on the floor. Asides from the question why the Hell he was here, there were more pressing matters at the moment. He could see a bleeding wound on the back of the boy, where a Reaper's bullet had hit him. The door further down the canal was locked, but that wasn't a problem.

He knelt besides the kid.

“Can you hear me?”

“It hurts so much”, the teen replied between rasping sobs. Cole kept telling himself he shouldn't care, but just walking away seemed so... _heartless_. So instead, he looked around for anything to help the kid with. He should get the bullet out, but he didn't have anything to use.

Cole paused. He could heal  _himself_ with his powers...could he heal  _others_ too? The process he used to heal himself- namely speeding up his natural self-restoration- could it be transfered to otheres as long he kept in contact with them?

He glanced down at the kid, then placed on hand against the bleeding wound. “Uh-” he started, getting his attention. “I'm not sure what's going to happen”, he told him, “But I will try something. Try not to...freak out. Okay?”

The boy whimpered. Cole focused on the bleeding wound, trying to remember what it felt like to heal himself. Once he had a firm grasp on the idea of  _healing_ , he concentrated on the kid. He wasn't too sure what he was actually doing, but he was trying. He pressed both fists into the kid's back, then send a surge of energy through his body.

The teen gasped in pain and fear when lightning crackled around him, though mere seconds later, everything had faded. Cole blinked at the sight of a blood-stained bullet sitting on an equally stained and ripped shirt, that was covering healed skin.

The courier grinned. Looks like he could actually  _heal_ with his powers.

Awesome.

* * *

 

The kid was out cold for a moment, and Cole stuck around waiting until he got better. As the teen climbed to his feet slowly, he blinked in surprise.

“I'm...fine?” He stumbled back when he saw the lightning arching across Cole's arms. “You- did you heal me?!”

“Yeah”, Cole replied. He inclined his head. “How did you come down here anyways?”

The kid shuffled his feet. “My parents and some friends- we came down here to escape the insanity on the surface. It's not pretty...but it is warm and secure. Or it was secure.” He sniffed. “Those Reapers have found us.”

Cole snorted. “Then show me where. I'm gonna take care of them.”

The kid frowned for a good moment, before he nodded and opened the door. Across a catwalk, Cole could see a small encampent. He also saw Reapers and a bunch of other people.

“Wait here”, the courier told the teen, then started running. The Reapers noticed him with snarls, and whipped their guns up. Cole was an easy target, sparking the way he was he could be easily made out in the darkness. But he had also a whole lot of charge after that transformer situation, so he was willing to take a few bullets to avoid having to waste time. Maybe it was the anger, or the adrenaline, or maybe the power boost he got from the transformers, but somehow it didn't hurt as much as it did when he got shot. Cole lunged at the first guys and unleashed a lightning barrage, frying four of them and halving their total number. The other four backed off, snarling and still shooting, but Cole simply shot a few lightning bolts at them to knock them over. “Stay Down!” He shouted at them, and suddenly the lightning started arching around them before it formed shackles around their arms and legs, pinning them to the floor.

Cole blinked and slowly approached them, glancing at the fetters. Cool. Lightning handcuffs.

He could think of a few usages for them: some pretty obvious, some...well for private reasons.

He snickered under his breath and turned to the civilians. They looked bruised and injured. As much as it would waste even more time, it would be a dick move to leave them like that. Cole leaned down and started to heal them. It was only the right thing to do.

The people stayed unconscious for the time it took his powers to fix them up. The kid approached him with wide eyes just as he was about to heal a slightly older teen.

“Wow! That was incredible!” He called out, “You just went in here and BAM! You beat all those idiots!”

“Don't mention it”, he replied as he stood up and dusted off his pants. “Just doing what I should be doing.”

“Man! You are a _hero_!” The teen beamed. Cole blinked. Hero? Zeke called him a freak (good-natured, but still), to Moya he was a tool to be used, to pretty much everybody above ground he was a terrorist, but to the kid here...

“Hey man, is there any way I can help you?”

“Not really”, Cole replied, “Well, maybe. Look, I'm looking for a guy called Brandon Carey. Electrician. He was kidnapped by the Reapers. You seen him?”

“Well, there was somebody who got dragged along”, the kid replied. “He should be further down.”

Cole nodded. “Thanks”

He started moving away from the encampment, clicking his phone. “The transformer's back on. Now what?”

“ _Restart the distribution substation”_ , Moya commented. Cole sucked in air to ask her what the heck she meant with that, but she beat him to it. _“Charge the relay on its front. That should be enough to get the power back online.”_

“Got it”, Cole swung himself across another sewage gap and balanced across some sturdy looking pipes. “Also, I caught some Reapers down here. Could you maybe send someone to pick them up? There are civilians too, but they're harmless.”

“ _Caught them- how?”_ Moya cut herself off. _“I'll see to it.”_

“Thanks.”

He jumped from the thicker pipe to a thinner one, but this one did manage to hold his weight. Thank God.

“ _Hey man, you there?”_

Cole blinked. Zeke? He answered. “Yeah?”

Zeke squirmed on his end before he spoke up.  _“Trish just stopped by”_ , he said. Cole stopped with a hiss. Did she want to talk to him? Did she want to see him? Shit, he wasn't anywhere nearby and smelled like sewer.  _“Uh- she picked up some of her stuff, barely talked to me”_ , Zeke continued before he could ask.  _“When I brought you up, she suddenly got like really silent and weird and just walked out.”_

Cole winced. “She thinks I killed her sister.”

“ _Hell, it ain't your fault that package was a bomb- Hell, you're lucky to be alive. She just needs to see things for what they are.”_ He paused for a moment, then added: _“Her friend thought the same.”_

Cole furrowed his brows. “Friend?”

“ _Yeah. A blonde nurse. She told me she didn't mean it. Said she'd talk to her later on, though right now she has to work things out herself.”_

“Blonde? Did she have a big dog with her?” Cole asked. “Well, more a bear with a collar, really.”

“ _No”_ , Zeke replied, _“But I didn't really check things out.”_

There was not much he could really do at the moment. The courier sighed “I'll catch you later then.” He cut the connection. He couldn't afford being distracted anyways- much of the catwalks were broken down, so he had to focus on jumping the gaps unless he wanted to take a bath in sewage. He also had to take out the few Reapers that lurked in the darkness.

He jumped back onto a platform, when he heard a startled gasp. He drew closer, noticing a man cowering back behind a door made of sturdy iron bars. Cole froze. He knew the guy.

From Lynnae's memories. It was Brandon. Her husband.

“What are you doing here?” Brandon asked, shielding his eyes from the bright light, and also trying to protect his body from any eventual attacks. “Did they see you?”

Cole frowned. The man seemed mostly fine, but he was scared. Probably of the Reapers. He lifted his hands, trying to appear as soothing as possible. “Listen, there's chaos up there. I need to turn on the substation.”

“Are you out of your damn mind?!” Brandon asked with a pitched voice. “The Reapers will kill my wife if I let you in here!”

Cole winced. His wife was dead. He sighed and lowered his head. “Lynnae is dead”, he said, hearing the startled gasp of the electrician. “They shot her.”

The man backed off. “How do you know her name?!”

Cole shook his head. “I found her”, he told him. He grit his teeth slightly, “I couldn't do anything for her anymore.”

The man sank to the ground, covering his face with his hands. “I knew I shouldn't...my poor Lynnae...” He started sobbing uncontrollably.

Cole shuffled his feet. “Look”, he tried to sound as soothing as possible, “I am sorry for your loss- but I have to get to that substation. I need the power back on- to stop them from hurting any more people...to make them pay.”

Brandon wiped his sleeve over his face and struggled back to his feet, nodding wordlessly. The door slipped open, allowing Cole to enter. He glanced at Brandon. “Are you going to be okay?”

The man sniffed and nodded. “Won't be easy...but I'll try.”

“Good. A lot of people lost somebody. This whole thing sucks.” Cole squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring manner, then hurried off. He still had something to do.

The substation was just further down the tunnel. Cole glanced at it, eying the relay. Moya said to charge it to make it work.

He inhaled and took hold of it, then focused on his internal energy. He unleashed a massive amount of it, sending it rushing into the machine. The substation gurgled, before it started humming.

The courier watched it for a moment longer, then turned and headed back.

* * *

 

When Cole popped back out of the manhole he first climbed through, he was glad to see the Neon brightly lit once more.

He was also happy to breathe in the fresh air, and seeing how late it was, he should probably return to Zeke for a shower and some rest. He yawned, stretching- when his phone rang.

It was Moya.

“ _I've got you back on screen”_ , she informed him, _“And the North Beach has power again. Good work.”_ There was a short pause, in which Cole heard keys clack again. _“But there are still three more substation offline. I'll mark them on your GPS as I find them.”_

Cole shrugged, stiffling a yawn. “I guess I can do one more, then I'll turn in for the night.”

“ _Well, if you are so willing then...”_ , Moya continued, _“There should a cell phone tower nearby. I need you to charge it back up.”_

Cell phone tower, huh? Cole grimaced. “Afraid I'm going to bail on you?”

“ _Without that tower, you'd fall off the grid. I can't allow that.”_ Moya ended the call. Cole exhaled. Why the hell was he even _doing_ this? It was clear she was just using him. Zeke's words came to mind, and as much as he hated feeding his friend's paranoia, there was something true about them.

With a heavy sigh, Cole continued his trek. He found a building to climb on, and from there made his way to the tower Moya marked for him. The total darkness engulfing it made him halt with a frown. Another powerless area. He grunted, then forced himself to move.

Without any sort of electricity around, his head began hurting very fast, and his vision turned blurry. He groaned and moved a bit slower, careful to not fall off the roof.

He hated feeling that weak. Better work swiftly to get the power back online.

Cole grunted when he hoisted himself atop a roof, and walked towards the tower. He was lucky he still had enough charge from the substation, so he wasn't depending on external sources, but he knew he had to recharge soon enough.

He shook his head to try to focus, then aimed his palm at the tower. He shot off several lightning bolts, just enough to switch the thing back on.

Once he did, he sat down with a huff, grunting when his head hurt even worse than before.

“ _Good”_ , Moya sounded pleased. _“Now you need to restore the electricity to this section of the Neon. I figured out the best way to get to the substation- but be careful. There are a lot of Reapers operating in the area.”_

Cole groaned and dropped his head back against the tower. “Those guys will slaughter me”, he bit out, “I can barely see. And charging that tower drained me dry.”

Moya clicked her tongue.  _“Stick to the high ground and avoid them.”_ She paused, then added, _“If you have to fight, look around for emergency generators. There are probably some scattered around the rooftops.”_

Cole gaped. “You're going to get me killed!” He hissed.

“ _Call me when you're in the sewers”_ , Moya replied coldly, and cut the connection.

Great.

He should really just give up and go home- but he did get more powers from the last substation...If he wanted to take out Kessler and solve this entire mess, he needed more power. Power he'd only get when he played along.

_Wonderful._

Cole dragged himself upright, glancing around. His eyes narrowed slightly on a generator happily gurgling away on the next roof over. He carefully moved to the edge of his own roof and eyed the ground. There were three Reapers. Cole scowled and headed over to a wire suspended between the roofs. He would move carefully, so nobody would see him.

Would be better for his health. He quickly balanced over the cable and latched onto the generator, to suppress the tell-tale arch of lightning that might give away his position.

A snarl from the side drew his attention before he could drain the generator. A Reaper wandered around the roof exit, and he paused, staring at the courier. Cole's eyes widened. If that guy would start shooting him, then everybody here would know where he was.

Without thinking, he lunged at the man. The Reaper made a startled snarl and tried to get his gun up, but Cole was faster. He knocked the gun out of the man's hand and tried to pin him to the ground with his own weight. The Reaper hissed and spat, winding to free himself. Cole didn't know what to do and slammed his hands over the other man's mouth. “Shut up” he hissed. The Reaper bucked up, starting to overpower the courier. Cole swore, feeling weakened from the lack of electricity. His body craved more juice, and it let him feel it.  _God damnit_ .

Cole tried to look around for anything to tie that idiot down until he had his fill from the generator, but he couldn't let him go without having anything to hold him down. He quickly decided to try knocking him out with his fist, when his body suddenly started pulling at his senses. His Radar Pulse went off without his say-so, scanning the area for the nearest source of electricity. The generator to the side glowed up- as did the Reaper he captured.

Cole blinked in confusion, but before he could make a conscious decision, his own body acted. The Reaper convulsed as lightning arched out of his head and chest where Cole's hands where. The courier flinched back, but didn't dare letting the guy go. The Reaper snarled and squirmed in pain, then a tremor raced through his body. His limbs were cramping together, then suddenly the Reaper went limp.

Cole hissed, carefully getting off the man. He didn't move. He prodded him with his toe. Nothing.

Then he understood, and he staggered back in horror. The man was dead, there was not a single spark of synaptic energy left in him, and he wasn't as desperate for juice anymore.

He just sucked out the man's  _life_ right out of his body, like some sort of Vampire.

_Holy shit!_

Cole shivered, realizing how potentially dangerous he could be to anybody around him if he was desperate for energy.

It was scary.

“ _Cole, stop wasting time”_ , Moya's voice cut in sharply, making him flinch. _“There is still a substation to be activated.”_

She ended the call before he could reply. Of course. He was just sifting through a life-changing discovery, and she didn't care and send him to risk his ass.

Well...at the very least he did have a possibility to reduce the number of enemies  _and_ recharge himself, he thought with a morbid sense of humor. Okay, no more Horror Movies with Zeke, he reminded himself as he dropped off the roof and carefully made his way across the next one. That move was reserved for either his worst enemies, or for absolute emergencies.

He paused, listening to the growl of an engine. With gas being rationed, hearing such large vehicles was rare. There could only be one group who would be driving around with cars when everything went to shit. The bad guys.

So Cole pressed himself flat to the roof and inched closer, peeking over the edge to see a massive truck standing on the train tracks. There were skulls painted all over it, and a turret installed on its truck bed.

_Shit_

Cole swallowed, trying to figure out how to get past that, and was about to head into a different direction to find another way, when a hollow  _crack_ made him halt.

He looked back, careful not to be seen, when his breath caught in his throat. An air conditionung unit came soaring through the air at a startling speed, crushed into the driver's cab, flattened it completely, before it flipped over from its own momentum and landed right on top of the turret to squash it and the Reaper operating it into a stain.

_Holy Shit! Where did that come from?!_

Cole's head snapped up when his senses shrieked 'danger' at him, and he saw a figure just jump off a roof and land on one roof  _three_ buildings further down the street.  _What was that?!_

He gulped, not really keen on finding that out, so he waited until his pulse had calmed down. Only then he slowly got up and hopped off the roof. The turret truck was no longer an obstacle, but the conditioner did interest him. So he carefully pulled closer, cursing his blurry vision when he stood in front of it. The metal construction was heavily damaged, but he could figure out it had been  _torn_ from its anchor. And not only that, he could see something of a  _handprint_ pressed into the metal. The unit didn't just fall off the roof- it had been  _thrown_ with full force.

“What the Hell?!”

He shook his head, trying to clear it, before he decided that he needed the juice back online before he could try anything.

Cole headed further across the rooftops, realizing how agitated the Reapers were. They were distracted, and that helped him a lot.

Once, he cringed back again from the feeling of danger, when he witnessed a group of Reapers stand in an alley, shooting at something in the darkness. Cole couldn't see what they were shooting, only that a moment later something black shot from the shadows and split all five Reapers apart at the hips.

He gasped, eyes wide.  _Shit_ .

He waited again, before he carefully inched closer. The Reapers were a lost cause, and the alley was empty. He did find a crater in front of the dead end, however. A crater that looked surprisingly familiar to him. He had seen a similar one on Zeke's roof.

He picked Moya's number as he made his way back topside.

“Moya?”

“ _You aren't in the sewers yet”_ , she started for a greeting, _“What's the problem?”_

“I don't know”, Cole admitted as he swung over a large pipe and hurried across the roof.

“ _...And you called me just to tell me that? Listen, I am a patient woman-”_

“I never said there's nothing”, Cole snapped, “Listen- there is something _wrong_ here.”

Maybe it was his tone that got her attention.  _“In how far?”_

“I just saw... _something_ throw an AC unit at a truck, turning it to scrap. Then five Reapers got themselves split apart at the hip. My head's screaming at me to get away the entire time.”

Moya was surprisingly silent.  _“Anything else?”_

“No idea. I'm just going to get the substation online, then I get the Hell out of here-” He skidded to a stop, flopping flat on the roof at the sight of a whole bunch of Reapers standing in the middle of a parking lot. There was another turret truck with them- and one of the Reaper conduits.

Cole swore softly. “Hang on, bunch of guys.”

He heard the Reapers snarl, backing off with their guns lifted. A moment later, another Reaper peeled from the shadows of an alleyway, stepping into the pale moonlight. Cole blinked, hoping to focus his eyes.

No. He didn't imagine this. The guy's arms were  _absurdly_ muscular. They were massively buffed up, with biceps easily larger than his thigh. But they weren't  _human_ . Not entirely. They seemed to have normal hands (just as large as his head, damnit), but the ulna was detached, connected only by the wrist and the elbow, and stood over with a spike-like protrusion. The skin looked gray.

The guy who had the arms, however, did not fit. He looked like a normal guy, a bit taller than Cole, skinnier, with a dark leather jacket or vest, faded jeans and a gray hoodie, with the hood up to cover his features.

The Reapers backed off some more, snarling. So this guy  _was not_ a Reaper himself.

Cole gasped when the conduit attacked the man, teleported next to him to create a shockwave. Unlike he did back when he encountered one of them, however, the hooded man didn't even  _bother_ acknowledging it. Instead, he whipped around and simply threw an uppercut into the Reaper's direction.

The man's upper body was literally turned to fine mist as the punch connected. The other Reapers immediately started shooting, along with the turret.

The hooded man just stood there as if it was rain, the bullets showing barely any effect, except for something splattering at the man's back. Cole swore, not knowing what to do. He heard Moya frantically calling for security footage in the background, but he couldn't tear his gaze away.

The man moved- not running, but rather  _jumping_ , clearing the distance between himself and the group of Reapers in a single bound. Crossing a distance of easily twenty yards as if it was a little skip. His fists slammed into the ground, hard enough to crater the asphalt and flip smaller cars up all over the parking lot. Even Cole felt the tremendous shockwave it caused, and windows still rattled two buildings further away from them.

The Reapers around the guy weren't so much flung back, as more  _completely obliterated_ , the shockwave easily turning their soft tissues to mush and snapping their bones like sticks.

One second later and they weren't  _people_ anymore, but rather a mass of splattered body parts and copious amounts of blood and gore.

Cole swore under his breath, backing off. He knew he had no chance against this guy. Then he suddenly froze as he witnessed the man's arms shiver. He clearly didn't imagine it and his blurry vision wasn't  _that_ blurry yet. He still sucked in air audibly with a hiss when the massive muscular arms vanished and were replaced by black twisted and spiky  _claws_ \- with talons easily as long as machetes. The man knelt down and stabbed one claw into the ground, even as the turret kept firing on him. He took it as if he stood in a strong breeze however.

The ground  _buckled_ and warped.

Giant black spikes suddenly erupted right beneath the truck, impaling it and shredding the metal with a hollow shriek. Cole hissed in panic.

“Shit Moya!” He snapped in a hushed tone. “You got to send somebody- that guy- he's unstoppable!”

“ _What guy, Cole?!”_ , Moya demanded, _“Listen- just tell me who it is!”_

“I don't know!” The courier snapped. “He's-” He froze mid-sentence. The hooded man's head had whipped up- and turned into _his_ direction.

He saw a scowl on the man's face and realized that he  _knew_ he was there.

“Shit!” Cole gasped, jumping to his feet. “He's seen me!” He hurled his body to the side, rolling over his shoulder to change his direction and head towards another, lower roof. In mid-air, however, something hit him with the power of a freight train, sending him hurling against the roof. All he heard was the roar of his own blood and the static shriek of Moya's voice. Frantically, he tried to scramble back to his feet, only to see a pair of black boots in front of his face.

The man had knocked him right out of the air and now stood over him, sword-like claws flexed.

Cole's eyes widened when he saw the man's face in the pale moonlight.

It was the guy from Archer Square.

 

 


	8. Mind Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah. Alex vs Cole. The battle we've been waiting for.

**Mind Games**

 

The guy from Archer Square, the guy who easily splattered two Reapers with nothing more than his hands before- and who just completely obliterated an entire group of Reapers and turned them into fine mist.

And now he had machete-like claws pasted to the ends of his arms and loomed over Cole, ready to tear into him.

Cole wasted no time. He kicked off the ground to propel himself backwards, while also sending a powerful bolt into the man's chest. He stumbled back with a snarl,  and Cole just whipped around and dropped off the roof, sprinting across the one lower without even making sure the guy was down. Something- something was  _off_ about that guy, something that was crawling down his back and was screaming on the inside of his head, telling him to get the Hell out of there. The screech of his phone didn't salvage the situation at all.

“ _Cole?! What is going on?!”_ Moya asked sharply with a hint of panic.

“Get your guys here!” Cole all but shouted, “I'm not sure I can take that guy!”

“ _What guy, Cole?!”_

“A conduit!” He yelled, “Skinny guy, shapeshifting powers- WHOA!” The ground buckled behind him, making him nearly lose his balance. The man had dropped onto the roof below, the force shaking the whole building. Cole didn't waste any time to look as he jumped onto a wire and hurried further away, when he heard something crack.

Like before, the guy slammed into him with incredible force and with no warning at all- No, not like before.   
Before it had been pretty rough, but now all breath was punched from Cole's lungs and three of his ribs were simply  _gone_ . Not broken, but gone. Obliterated. 

The two men hit hard into the next roof, Cole gasping in pain when the guy dropped on him. He was  _way too_ heavy for a normal person- and the tumble didn't even seem to have disoriented him, was instead already rolling off Cole and to his feet, getting some distance within a heartbeat. The courier knew he couldn't stay down and tried to summon lightning with a groan, but he failed to breathe normally from the sheer agony tearing through his body.

His hair stood on edge and he rolled over his shoulder to get his feet beneath his body, then lunged to the side to barely avoid a sudden pounce from the guy. He knew that guy from somewhere, but at the moment his brain was too busy screaming and running circles as he just ducked under another wide swing. At the same moment, he released lightning all across his surface and the man backed off with a snarl.

“ _Cole?!”_

The man lunged again, claws spread wide. Cole rolled to the side to avoid the blow, but the metallic tips still caught him on the shoulder, slicing through his flesh and bone like through wet paper. Cole grunted, the pain not setting in right now from how sharp the bladed talons were _,_ then fired a few lightning bolts at the man, who more than easily jumped over them to avoid them.

Suddenly he pounced at him from mid-air, kicking off the air with a burst of energy. Cole dove to the side, trying to avoid him, while also firing another burst of electricity at the guy. The man rolled in the air to avoid the barrage, then ground his teeth together and made a move for him, ignoring the electricity surging around him. His giant bladed claws snatched Cole's throat mercilessly and closed around it in a vise-like grip. Cole choked and grabbed the spiny wrist, increasing his energy output to try and make him let go. The man hissed, his muscles twitched- but then he simply  _squeezed_ some more, cutting off air and blood circulation.

The courier gasped, drawing back his powers on instinct as he clawed uselessly at the metallic talons, breaking his own skin on contact with the barbed steel-like surface.

“ _Shit! Get someone over there ASAP!”_ He heard Moya shout. The man froze for a split second, before he plucked the phone off with his claws and send it clattering across the roof, obviously unbothered by his victim's attempt to break free.

A surge of rage raced through him, and Cole snarled and swung his legs back, then kneed the guy full force into the groin.

He could be kicking a wall at that rate. The guy didn't even acknowledge it- instead his hold on the courier tightened, before the man pushed off the ground. Cole's stomach dropped as they rocketed straight upwards- around ten stories or so in a single bound. The wind was whipping harshly at him when they suddenly  _changed_ direction. He could see faint red trails vanish into thin air, but he was too occupied with clawing at the talon that was cutting off his oxygen supply.

The man hit another roof hard, and Cole didn't even know  _where_ they were at the moment, only that the shock of impact made his bones rattle and strained his neck. He grunted, realizing that his spine would snap at this rate, before he wrapped his arms tightly around the spiky black flesh to take his own weight and the acceleration off his throat.

He tried to figure out where they were going, but they were going  _too fast_ . The world blurred around him, and all he could do was try to get the claws to open slightly to get a bit more blood into his brain to be able to  _think_ again.

He became aware of a building's facade coming too close though, and managed to choke a grunt. They hit the glass face, but instead of breaking through or bouncing off, the man continued running.

Up the wall. Against gravity.

Cole choked, staring as the street became smaller and smaller beneath him. Then they sailed across the rooftop's edge, and he felt the pressure letting up completely. Instead, he found himself bodily flung across the roof, hurtling into the rooftop exit with so much force, the concrete cracked. His vision blurred out of focus, but he still tried to scramble to his feet. He didn't get very far though, as the massive claw was back at his throat again, slamming him into the wall and pinning him there in a way his feet barely touched the ground. Cole hissed and charged up again, forcing his body to give of electricity in powerful discharges.

He heard the other man snarl in pain, but the grip only tightened, metallic nails and black spikes cutting into his soft throat, taking away all circulation and letting rivulets of blood soak into his clothes. His vision was dimming rapidly, and his power petered off into weak sparks. He could feel himself losing consciousness, but then the claw let up suddenly allowing his body to draw in much-needed air. He was supposed to stay alive- for now, but the implications were clear- he couldn't use his abilities or the other was going to restrain him again.

Instead, the man leaned closer, icy blue eyes fixing Cole. “Who is Moya Jones?” He snarled, his hot breath washing over Cole, who wrinkled his nose at the slightly rotting scent it was carrying.

“Go to Hell”, the courier bit back, straining his muscles in hopes of breaking free. “Why should I tell you anything?! You just dragged me here, nearly snapped my neck while at it!” He snarled at the other, and lightning jumped from his skin along with his rising temper. The man grit his teeth as the discharge raced through his body and scorched his flesh, but didn't let go, forcibly wrenching his talons back together to try and choke the courier again.

But Cole wouldn't let him. Rage flooded through his body and wrenched every last ounce of the energy stored there. The dark sky came alive and a powerful thunderstorm was unleashed. The hooded man jerked back, releasing Cole as he tried to avoid the bolts of electricity. The courier dropped to the ground, gasping, but the entire focus of his ire and rage was solely on the hooded man. And the elements of nature obeyed his anger. The thunderstorm started  _following_ the hooded man, hitting him with everything it had. Cole actually smirked at the howling that reached his ears, unbothered that it didn't sound  _human_ at all, unbothered by the stench of scorched flesh.

And then the man simply stopped, knees buckling as he brought one talon over his head and the other twisted into a giant, wicked-looking  _sword_ the size its owner. Much of the lightning was instantly channeled into the metal of the blade and was simply conducted into the rooftop and away from him, while heavy, black armor plates rose from his surface and covered his body.

The remaining lightning glanced off the shell.

Cole gasped in shock and tried to focus harder on frying him, but it didn't seem to work anymore- too much was lost through the impromptu lightning rod, while the remaining armor simply offered  _too much_ resistance for the lightning bolts to get through, protecting the bastard too well. 

And, to make matters worse, his reserves were sucked dry and Cole found it incredibly hard to  _focus_ . His headache was back, roaring in his ears as his lightning became weaker, until it were mere weak sparks. The courier groaned, dropping to his knees as tremors ran through his body. His side was on fire, and the wound on his shoulder and throat were bleeding again, having opened from his struggle.

The hooded man seemed ultimately undisturbed as the lightning tapered off. He dragged his blade free and rose from the crouch he had been in, shifting both arms back into vaguely human limbs before he turned his featureless face towards him. Cole hissed and struggled to his feet, taking a protective stance when the guy stepped towards him, allowing him a little clearer look at him. His body still looked male, but it was no longer coated in clothes, but rather organic-looking  _armor_ . The plates melted into the other like wax, there was a collar at the back of his head, the abdominal muscles looked like they had been carved into the dark shell, arms and legs appeared to be covered with bands of steel that merged with another. Spikes jutted out of his kneecaps and elbows, and claws were at the end of each finger.  
The face itself wasn't a  _face_ to speak of- just a blank shell with a few groves and indentations, but nowhere near where eyes should be. And he still had the feeling that bastard was  _grinning_ at him.

Suddenly he moved, lunging at the courier and just sweeping one leg to easily topple him and send him to the ground. Cole growled and tried to get back up, but a heavy foot crashed on his chest and simply pinned him there. And no amount of wriggling made a difference.

“It would be easier if you stopped struggling” The armored man growled, voice garbled through the featureless faceplate. 

“Like Hell!” Cole shouted, but the foot came down a bit harder and he trailed off in breathless curses.

“Really?” The other drawled out. “We have seen that I am easily able to overpower you, even without the armor. You have no hopes of beating me.”

Cole balled his fists. “I am not afraid of you”, he growled.

“You are”, the other replied, armor shivering and pulling back, shifting into a normal-looking leather jacket and a pair of jeans. He leaned down, adding some more pressure to the courier's chest as he bared his teeth. “Remember this- because this is the only warning you will get.”

“A warning?” Cole bit out, trailing off into swearwords when the weight increased slightly.

The bared teeth above him turned into a grin. “Don't even  _think_ about telling your handler about my presence here. Because if you do,  _everybody will die_ .”

Icy sweat clung to Cole's back and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Who in the world- who was this guy? Who was he to make such claims?

“You will keep silent about this”, he repeated again.

“Or what?” Cole bit out, struggling to heave the weight off him. “Or else you'll murder my friends? My family?”

“No”, the man replied with a scoff. “Because your handler would do all of this herself.” He stepped back, finally allowing the young man to climb back to his feet. “Because if she learns about my presence here, she will have no choice but to force her way in, and kill whoever is in her way. Because that is how it had been since Manhattan.”

Manhattan? Cole growled lowly. “What does Manhattan have to do with this?”

The man chuckled and the courier's hair rose in faint terror. “ _I_ have destroyed Manhattan.  _I_ was the one to kill it three years ago. Your Moya, your state- they are hunting me. Trying to stop me, to capture me. And they will gladly shoot through the people to get to me.”

Cole's face paled. There was only  _one_ who fit the description.

_Alex Mercer_ .

The Terrorist of Manhattan. The killer that murdered two and a half million people three years ago. And upon his return the following summer, continued with devastating what was left of the city. Manhattan had been torn apart, every last living thing inside had been killed and the city itself closed off.

And Mercer was  _here_ . In Empire City.

The young man hissed and backed off, terror and rage mounting and activating weak sparks along his limbs. Whatever good it would do to him- Mercer had  _killed_ two and a half million people within  _two weeks_ , had survived the United State's Marine Corps not only once, but  _twice_ \- and he had been powerful enough to easily take him down without showing any signs of weakening.  _Him_ \- the guy who could control lightning as the extension of his mind.

He had to get away...had to contact Moya, had to get  _someone_ to stop the terrorist.

“You will not”, Mercer's deep voice rumbled. “Because I will _watch you_ , Cole. I will make sure you won't talk. If you do- if you only _think_ about it- I will _murder_ you.”

“Why didn't you already?”

“Because I still have enough respect for you. And you are a good camouflage to me. As long you are still around and fight these Reapers, nobody is going to look at _me_ closely.”

Cole growled, his expression darkening. Bastard didn't know who he was messing with, here. Seriously, there was no reason to  _believe_ that guy. And Moya did have man power. Hell, if she knew then maybe there would finally be soldiers around here that  _actually_ took care of things.

“Go screw yourself”, he snarled.

He didn't even  _see_ Mercer move. He only realized that he was slammed back into the wall with a pair of giant razor-like claws that glowed eerily in the darkness. Mercer's eyes were flashing brilliantly crimson, and his teeth were maybe a bit  _too_ sharp. “Got it?!” He snarled, “You will keep your mouth shut about this here, and I will not murder you or anybody who ever meant anything to you.”

Cole struggled against the hold, but couldn't break free. He just  _knew_ the guy meant it. Mercer was stronger, faster and way more ruthless than him- and remembering the Reapers from before, he had been clearly pulling his punches when they fought. Cole's life had turned into a shitfest within one day- but if anything being declared a terrorist only made him fight harder, to prove to everybody who the real guy responsible was. Maybe it was his pride, maybe it was the stubborn hope that Trish would come back to him, but he was going to show the world that they couldn't screw with Cole MacGrath.

And then Mercer came along and just forced him to do whatever he wanted. And Cole went along with it, having no chance against someone as powerful as that freak. For some reason Mercer also didn't want him to be dead at the moment- as evident that Cole was still alive- but he needed him scared into submission. There was no way around it- the courier hissed and managed a jerky nod.

And Mercer actually let him go.

“Remember: I'll be watching you”, the terrorist growled before he leapt off the roof and dropped out of view. Cole could hear the sound of the impact seconds later, could feel the tremor run through the entire building.

The courier groaned and sat down, rubbing his neck. He had managed to get out of some serious troubles- and he had gained nothing for it. He was weakened, injured- and had gained a stalker that could probably murder him without him having time to blink.

He was certain that this was about the worst day in his life.

* * *

 

It took Cole the better of half an hour to return to where Mercer had attacked him. The Reapers had gotten more silent, were hidden from the walking genocide that was following him unseen. Which served him well for the moment- he didn't have much juice left and was bone tired, while his body had been busy trying to fix itself from the rough handling. Getting off that building had been the toughest part of the way, because he wasn't sure he'd survive simply jumping off. Luckily, he did find and drain a generator on the way here to supply himself with energy and close the wounds, so all that was left was his raging headache from the lack of electricity around.

After a bit of searching, he found his phone sitting in a corner of the roof. He ignored the warning tremor down his back when he heard a distant  _thud_ and the crack of concrete. He still picked the device up and called Moya. She needed to know he was still alive.

“Moya”

There was a sharp hiss at the other end.  _“Cole?”_

“Yeah.”

“ _What happened?”_

Cole winced. He  _really_ wanted to tell her what happened, if only to spite that bastard, but his neck was crawling and his gut heaving. Mercer was still lurking somewhere, watching him. After their meeting, he wasn't so keen on pissing him off any more, not without having more power. “Got jumped”, he said shortly. “Some sort of conduit, I guess.”

“ _Cole. I had my guys look for you. You were nowhere to be seen.”_

“Guy could teleport, dragged me across the city before I knew what happened.”

“ _Where is he now?”_

“Dead”, he answered, hoping she wouldn't pick up on the short falter in his voice. “Didn't go down easy, though.”

“ _So that has been you”_ , Moya mumbled. _“I've seen the light show.”_

“Yeah. Guy got me good, though. Shoulder's a mess and I'm afraid I got a few broken ribs, but I'm okay otherwise.” That wasn't even lying. His side was still rolling with pain, and his shoulder felt worse than it looked, mostly because his flesh had mended as he trekked back. Didn't meant it didn't hurt, though. “Needed a breather after that.”

“ _Good”_ , the woman commented, and Cole thought she actually sounded _relieved_. _“You still up for the Substation?”_

“Yeah. Might help getting my brain back to work”, the courier shrugged. “I'll call you once I'm in the sewer.” Plus he might get a shiny new power out of it. Anything to become stronger.

He clicked the phone off and fastened it against his shoulder, wincing as the sore flesh gave a sting of pain, before he quickly moved to where he wanted to go before he found himself so  _rudely_ interrupted. 

He jogged along the street, trying his best to ignore the shadowy figure just a few blocks away. He glanced at the clock of a store to figure out it was around half past eleven now. He stifled a yawn. No wonder he felt so beat. Just that substation and then he would head back to Zeke. Probably wouldn't even shower.

He found the manhole Moya had marked for him before in the Southwestern part of the Neon, lifted it up and slipped inside a little faster than he did before. He just wanted to get out of the open.

He gagged at the smell of the sewage, but was almost willing to give it a pass. Mostly because there was electricity down here and he did feel marginally safer because Mercer couldn't lurk around on buildings to watch him.

He activated his phone. “Okay. I'm in.”

“ _Same drill as before”_ , Moya told him. _“Re-establish the circuit on the underground transformer, and then look for the substation.”_

Cole nearly asked her whether she knew anything about Mercer though he swallowed it and just gave a confirmative grunt, especially when he heard a distant splashing sound. Could be the guy actually following him, could also be just a rat. He didn't want to risk it.

Like before, most of the catwalks had been torn down, and like before, there were many grimy pipes for him to hold onto. As he leapt against the first one, a voice in his head told him sternly to take a shower once he was done. And wash his clothes with bleach. Loads of bleach. Cole agreed with that little voice in his head, though he had to add that he would probably never be clean again.

He hopped along the pipes, then managed to drop onto the still-standing catwalk and move along there. This area was larger than the first, and Cole did wonder just whose  _brilliant_ idea it was to build the transformers and substations in such a hard-to-reach place. Even with the catwalks intact, it was anything but a walk in the park. Alone the  _smell_ .

He winced and pulled himself up on a pipe on the ceiling, and balanced over it. His lightning-coated arms allowed him to see some, but unlike a flashlight, he couldn't use it to check further away from his current position. He was pretty much moving blind.

Luckily the transformer announced itself with a bright blue glow.

He carefully made his way over there, and hesitated only shortly in front of the mighty machinery, before he jumped up and grabbed it, closing the circuit. His body convulsed when hundreds of thousands volts slammed right through him, frying and charging every single cell at the same time. Cole groaned, but didn't let go until the other side was working again.

He dropped to the floor, panting in pain. Like before, there was the feeling of being stronger after that overcharge, and like before, his fingertips tickled with unfamiliar powers.

He wondered  _what_ exactly that power was. Last time he got the ability to heal, to restrain, and to kill. He would probably figure the new ones out soon enough.

He headed away from the transformer, balancing across a pipe and headed towards a closed door. Cole frowned. The barred door lay askew and broken in the doorway, blocking it off. He inclined his head, wondering whether he could try to clear it. That would probably take a whole lot of time, though.

Maybe he could blast his way through? The Shockwave wasn't suited though, not with how wedged the rubble was.

So he stepped back, getting some distance between himself and the obstacle and charged himself up. The feeling from before returned, and Cole watched how the sparks along his arms started to collect in his flat palm, forming a small orb of energy. He frowned at it, feeling the energy radiating off it.

_Maybe_ ...

He hauled his arm back and threw the orb of crackling static at the obstacle. It bounced off the wall, stuck to the ground- and exploded in a shower of sparks and rubble.

The way was cleared. Cole blinked, before a grin split his face. Lightning  _Grenades_ . Cool. He could imagine it would make a real impression on whoever dared to attack him.

He headed towards the door, draining a fuse box for a good measure, when his phone rang.

It was Zeke again.

“ _Hey man”_ , his best friend greeted him. _“Everybody around here keeps carrying on about you delivering that bomb. Even George is runnin' his mouth about that.”_

Cole frowned, pausing. His  _boss_ was about the last one he ever thought would jump on the 'Cole is a terrorist' bandwagon. He was his  _boss_ , goddammit. He  _should_ know that Cole was a  _courier_ , because he  _paid_ him for moving parcels around. As it looked like, this entire day had been shit.

“Bastard”, Cole growled. “He said I needed to beeline that blasted package.” He snorted.

“ _Guess George's not gonna give you your paycheck then?”_

“Was a terrible job in the first place”, Cole muttered. “Pay sucked.” He paused, frowning. “Did you know? I was supposed to meet the client in the Historic. He called me instead and told me to open the box. Next thing I knew was waking up in that crater.”

“ _Well, at least you got superpowers out of it”_ , Zeke commented. Cole imagined him shrugging. _“And don't worry about George and those other idiots. I'll cover for ya, man. They're frickin' gossip queens anyways.”_

Cole allowed himself to snicker, before he remembered one thing. “Hey Zeke?”

“ _Yeah?”_

“Could you-” Cole bit his tongue. He wanted to have his friend check out Manhattan and Mercer, but Moya was listening. But then she would realize Mercer was here, or why else should he want to know about what happened in Manhattan? He said that Empire was going to get destroyed then- Cole didn't trust the shapeshifting freak or anything he said, but he had enough brains to _not_ throw his name around so carelessly. He and Zeke would talk later, so he just swallowed once and finished “Could you maybe prepare the washing machine and shower? I'm crawling around the sewers at the moment.”

Zeke chuckled.  _“Got ya covered there too.”_

“Thanks.”

He continued moving, rather undisturbed, until his senses screamed at him. He immediately crouched low and moved quickly behind a large pipe, glancing around it. Not the terrorist, thank God, but there were several turrets and Reapers.  _Just how did they get this stuff down here? Where did they have it from anyways?!_

He scowled and fashioned a grenade, then lugged the first one from behind his cover at the first turret. It exploded in a glorious ball of fire, and once the courier was certain the others weren't immediately shooting, he threw two more grenades, taking out the other two turrets in a similar manner.

_Frickin' Reapers!_

He hurried past the obstacle and rushed along another catwalk, just in time to see another suicide Reaper snarl and run towards him, flailing his sticks of dynamite through the air.

And he was right in front of the substation. If he blew himself up here, then all would be for naught.

Cole scowled. He had to take that guy out before he could explode.

So he charged  _towards_ the guy, taking him by surprise. The Reaper snarled, but Cole was faster. He created a Shockwave and knocked him into the sewage beneath, wincing with a grimace at the wet  _Splorp_ it made. The Reaper growled enraged, but with the now wet torches, he couldn't do any harm. Cole aimed at the sewage and fired several bolts at it, watching how the lightning dissipated and fried everything around: Rats and the Reaper. The man fell face-first into the liquid.

_Yuck_ .

Cole shook himself, then headed towards the substation and charged it up. He heard it hum when it went back online, then he turned and headed back to the manhole. He didn't want to go back out there, not to that clawed maniac, but he  _had_ to. He couldn't stay down here.

* * *

 

When Cole climbed back out of the manhole, he took a very deep breath, hoping to banish the smell that still lingered in his nose. He could feel his back crawl again with the feeling of danger, but at the moment, the scent of fresh air was a lot more important. He snorted to try clearing his brain from the smell of sewage, playing already with the idea of simply frying his own nose to burn the smell out of it, but then figured if he was immune against lightning, his nose probably would too.

“ _Nice work, Cole”_ , Moya congratulated him, _“Though I am afraid I don't bear good news.”_

Cole frowned. “What did you find?”

“ _I figured out why the Reapers were destroying the water pipes under the bridge”_ , she told him. Cole paused, pulling into an alleyway to avoid the pedestrians. He remembered the sledgehammer sticking out of that pipe. _“They're isolating the city's water system”_ , Moya explained, _“So they can pump their plague into every home.”_

“What?!” Cole snapped, eyes wide with worry. This...plague- it already killed a lot of people. And now the Reapers were _pumping_ it into the city's water supply?! This was a catastrophe!

Zeke! _Trish!_

He was moving before he was aware he did, latching onto a rainwater drain to scale a hotel's side, then hoisting his body across the roof edge. His shoulder didn't hurt anymore, and his side seemed to be numb and was no longer painful.

Cole growled angrily, racing across the roof. He had to make sure Trish was okay. Screw everything else!

“ _And it gets better”_ , Moya continued. _“I'm getting reports that Smith Fountain is already polluted, and there are a lot of casualties. Head over there and confirm my intel, then we'll figure out what to do.”_

Cole didn't to be told twice. He was in a all-out flat sprint as he charged across the buildings, ignoring the few remaining Reapers. He leapt on the train tracks and forced himself to go faster, cursing that right now he couldn't go fast  _enough_ . He could see the Smith Street below and jumped off, then hurried over to the Smith Fountain at the mouth of the Smith Park. He stopped, shoes skidding over the asphalt once he saw the entire extent of what happened.

“Not looking good, Moya”, he informed her, carefully coming closer, “Sick people all over the place, the water in the fountain is black.”

“ _All right. Get over there. We need to find a way to stop this.”_

Cole didn't hear her words, though, because in that moment he spied Trish and Christine crouching near a man on the ground. He hurried towards them. They both noticed his approach, though only the blonde nurse got up to greet him. Trish seemed to shy back, staring at Cole with wide eyes. Seeing her like that made his heart clench painfully. He didn't want her to be scared of him.

“Cole!” Christine called out, “What are you-” She paused, taking a double take of his appearance. “Man. You look like shit.”

“I know”, Cole sighed. He glanced at the blonde. “Zeke told me you're taking care of Trish now?”

“I do”, she replied.

“Thanks” Cole moved towards Trish, crouching down in front of her. She flinched back, eyes roving across his body. He sighed, because he really looked like shit. His pants and shoes were stained, there were blood splatters all across his jacket. There were several bullet holes riddled around his torso, and the pads of the shoulder part of his jacket was a bloody mess, though the skin beneath was all okay again. “Look Trish”, he tried to sound as soothing as possible. “I know what that guy said about me. I know Amy is dead because of me- but”, he swallowed, “I didn't know what was in that package. Somebody set me up for this. For all of this.”

He tapped at his phone. “I have proof.”

Trish slowly shook her head, nodding to the sick people on the ground. “There is so much to do, Cole”, she said silently, “We don't- don't have time.”

Cole sighed, dropping his head. “Just tell me how to help.”

“Start by closing that valve over there”, Christine piped in, “It's jammed and we didn't manage to turn it on our own. It's how the black tar gets into the fountain.”

Cole turned his head slightly, eying the thick pipe and the valve attached to it. He didn't even need time to decide, so he simply headed over and grabbed the wheel, feeling the sturdy metal beneath his hands. He strained his muscles as he tried to move it. It was jammed pretty hard, but that didn't deter him. He snarled as static electricity started to crackle across his body, and he heard the two nurses inhale sharply.

The valve made a creaking noise, then it started moving. Cole grunted as he spun it, hearing the sloshing on its inside being cut off. But then the pipes rattled violently, seconds before a black liquid sprayed out of the valve and hit Cole's face. The courier jerked back with a half-yell, half-swear.

He had the stuff all over his face, and he angrily wiped at it, trying to get it off.

“It's all over your eyes!” Trish yelped. Cole couldn't make her out, she was just a blurry figure against the fountain.

“There's a solvent in the car!” Christine cut in. “Get him there, Trish. I'll take care of things here!”

Cole grunted, trying to blink away the red glare that was taking his sight. Their voices were strangely distorted too. He struggled after Trish, trying to focus on her as black tentacles crawled at the edge of his vision, sending stabs of panic through his chest and hitching his breathing.

“ _I've been watching you, Cole. Waiting for this moment. Anticipating it”_ , a woman's voice whispered. Cole whirled around, lightning around his arms because he _did not know_ that voice. Where was she?! Three Reapers suddenly stood behind Trish, all of them towering over her by several _feet_. Cole gasped in panic and was about to zap them, when his brain lurched painfully and they vanished without a trace. He noticed Trish blur out of focus, but she seemed to stop and look at him. More, he couldn't tell. “Who's- doing this?” Cole groaned, swaying to the side.

“ _She hates you”_ , the woman continued, whispering on the inside of his head, _“Loathes you. Your power frightens her. She'll never love you.”_

Cole groaned, stumbling after Trish, who had headed into an alley, but stopped again to look at him, worried.  _“I can make you forget about her.”_ The voice offered, and Cole's head threatened to split open.  _“Everything you shared- gone like a whisper. No more pain, no more heartache.”_ Cole grit his teeth to block her out. Instead, he tried to focus on Trish, who was leading him to an ambulance. Four more Reapers blinked into existence for a short moment, watching him. Tentacles crawled across the floor, swallowing up the asphalt in sickening waves of red and black. Cole just barely managed to drag himself towards the ambulance, before he collapsed, hands pressed against his temples as he struggled to keep in control. Whatever this stuff was- it wrecked  _havoc_ on his senses.

He groaned, trying to focus on Trish. Trish looked worried, but then her face slipped out of his line of vision and was replaced for a small spray. “Hold still”, she ordered and squeezed the trigger. Cole choked for a moment, but then the soothing spray cleaned out his eyes and calmed his raging headache. He waited for a few moments until his head didn't feel like somebody was taking a jackhammer to it, before he finally moved. With a groan, he struggled back upright. “Thanks”

Trish opened her mouth a few times, before she shook her head. “I have to get back”, she said, pulling away. “I'm out of solvent, so if you get more of that stuff on your face- you have to wait until it wears off.”

She moved away, and Cole remained where he was, rooted to the spot. His chest hurt as he slowly clicked the button of his phone. “I took care of the fountain, Moya. Had to shut off the feeder pipe that led into it.”

“ _There are two more water mains in the area”_ , Moya informed him. Cole sighed.

“Gotcha. I'll turn those off and see what happens.”

He headed out of the parking lot and jogged across the street, then turned to move towards the park. He knew where those pipes where. One summer, he had wrenched one of them open to create an impromptu-water park. Of course, that ended with him getting a warning from the police and several hours of public duty.

He snorted, and found the first valve. Two Reapers tried to stop him, but he made short process with a few lightning bolts. Then, he grit his teeth and grabbed the valve, turning it shut.

Like before, the pipes burst again, coating him with tar once more. “Urgh- sonofa-” He grunted, stumbling away while trying to wipe as much as possible off his face.

“ _I feel your broken heart, Cole”_. Joy. The voice was back. Again. _“So much emotion. Bottled up with nowhere to go. Why do you love her? She's beneath you. You deserve better.”_

That bitch had no idea. Trish had been with him forever already. “Shut up” Cole growled, trying to get as much of the stuff away from him as possible, wiping it off his chest and face as good as he could.

That was when he became aware of the white-hoodie-wearing Reaper conduit that appeared in front of him out of nowhere, snarling. He jerked back, arms going up on instinct, just as the guy started glowing.

Before either conduit could release their attack though, a black barbed wire broke through the Reaper's chest, killing him instantly. Cole froze, staring in shock when the Reaper collapsed and the... _thing_ that killed him pulled back. His gaze followed the three braided bands to its origin. Then his heart stopped with a start and Cole stepped back. Alex Mercer. Less a threatening presence at the back of his head, but now in front of him, pale eyes narrowed and one arm mutated into a monstrous claw.

His entire body switched on high alert, lightning lashing out of his skin and crackling across his surface in preparation. Could he take him? (hah, most likely he'll end up a stain on the grass). Would he go after Trish, because he found Cole unsatisfactory?

Mercer tilted his head slightly, the focus of his unnatural eyes pinning the courier to the spot, sending cold waves of terror down his back. Why was he here?

“ _You're all alone, you know”_ , the voice whispered, but with his nerves frayed as they were, he jerked back with a swear, body curling slightly into a defensive position. _“No one cares about you. Not the girl. Not the fat man on the roof. Not the woman under the bridge. Only I love you. I've always loved you, Cole. Always and forever.”_

“For God's sake, get out!” Cole snapped, as his eyes found the larger threat across from him again. Mercer wasn't moving, but his gaze focused on Cole. Then his expression shifted, turned almost...thoughtful. And pissed, though not at the courier (at least he hoped so).

The piercing gaze was gone suddenly, the terrorist had turned away, muttering under his breath much too fast for Cole to catch anything he said. Was he even speaking  _English_ ? But then the tone shifted, and he could understand at least some of the words.

“Auditory hallucinations. Visual too?” The courier flinched when the man glanced at him briefly. “Possibly. Drives the people mad. Caused through what?” He eyed Cole again, eyes narrowing- not malicious but rather...researching? Then he turned, glaring at the valve and the black ooze dripping from it instead. 

“The tar”, he growled, grabbing the valve and twisting it shut one-handed. Like before, the tar sprayed out of the pipes and hit the terrorist fully- but unlike Cole the man didn't even _react_. Instead, he glanced down at his chest, seconds before shadows skipped across his surface and removed the black liquid, leaving the man no worse for wear. Instead, he just continued to ramble on, obviously having forgotten about Cole.

“In the water. Poisons the humans. Short contact induces madness. Prolonged exposure... corrodes the cerebral matter?” He scowled. “Too dangerous to leave unchecked.”

And suddenly his stance changed. Back to aggressive within the blink of an eye. For a split moment, Cole actually wondered whether that guy was bi-polar, but then he dropped into a protective stance, lightning sparking across his surface to try and fend the other off.

“Where does it come from?” He growled. “The tar.”

The water main. Cole's eyes narrowed in realization. The Reapers probably didn't have access to the water supply as it was over in the Historic District. The situation here was local, which meant that they got this crap into the pipes by other means.

And he did remember from his earliest days as urban explorer that there was a large main pipe just in the car tunnels beneath the park.

He spun around and rushed towards the closest street, flinching violently when he heard a loud  _growl_ from the terrorist behind him. A warning sound- he had seen him kill a bunch of Reapers with barely anything more than the flick of his wrist, so this was probably supposed to stop him by intimidation.

Yeah, shame Cole wasn't going to be intimidated that easily (okay, that was a lie- he was scared out of his wits, but the prospect of losing Trish to those bastard Reapers was far more terrifying, so he just swallowed it). Instead, he tried to focus on any sounds from behind him, hearing a deep sigh followed by the hollow crack of concrete- and flung his body to the side and off the upper levels to get to the entrance of the tunnel and avoid the missile made of flesh, spikes and bad mood that just shot at his back.

He hit the ground hard, having had barely any time to stabilize his position, and that rattled his brain, easing up on the mental hold he tried to keep on the voice.

“ _You won't be able to shut me out forever”_ , the woman drawled, obviously having noticed the lack of focus. _“Eventually, a crack will appear and that crack will spread and grow larger- and then the wall comes down. It's only a matter of time.”_ Cole snarled and tried to force her back, hearing the loud and threatening crack of the terrorist landing himself. Too close for comfort, but fear was an excellent motivator. _“You don't know love. Not true love. But I will teach you. And then that bastard will see what he lost.”_

The courier shook his head and dashed towards the tunnel, trying to shake her voice.

He didn't get very far when something grabbed him and dragged him backwards- powerful like a steel band and composed of raw muscles. The courier snarled, winding to free himself, when he was let go of and became aware of shooting. Three seconds later and the shooting was cut off by the wet sound of flesh tearing.

“You shouldn't be running around”, a dark voice told him. “And you shouldn't run from _me_.” Cole's only reply was a hiss when his vision seemed to clear. He hadn't even noticed it was fogged over, having been too focused on keeping the voice out and away from the terrorist.

But then he realized that he was currently standing behind the terrorist, while several torn-apart Reapers decorated the asphalt to the front. Mercer had yanked him back and assaulted the Reapers, protecting him in the process.  _Why?_

The guy just stood there, watching him with those unsettling eyes. He said he was going to watch him. So what? Was he scared he'd bail on him? _Check up on his investment?_ Why the Hell would he even _care_ about him when before he had no problem to manhandle him violently enough to cause injuries that would have taken down normal humans?

The courier scowled at the other man, realizing that right now, he didn't seem to be in any danger. No, instead Mercer had downright  _coddled_ him- had made sure that the Reapers wouldn't have been able to shoot him (despite the bullets probably having snapped him out of his merry head-trip).

It  _pissed_ him off to no end. The realization that this bastard was toying with him, stalking him- and then having the nerve to ignore him and his powers and  _belittle_ him by playing the powerful savior.

He hissed hatefully and shoved hard against the man (nearly straining his wrist and only gaining a wry smirk in return) to march past him, heading into the underpass. He didn't want anything to do with that terrorist, because that guy was just so full of himself and ignorant to others, it made him  _sick_ . Plus, he couldn't even need  _more_ bad publicity.

He vaulted over a barricade and headed inside the tunnel to take out his anger on the Reapers he could still hear and sense there, when he heard a heavy step behind him, and the feeling of fear let an icy shower run down his back. He wasn't going to let it stop him, though. Instead, he barked enraged “Either kill me or leave me alone, but stop following me!”

“I won't do either”, was the reply, and in the underground Mercer's dark voice seemed to be even deeper, able to rattle his bones. “But until now, you've proved yourself to be an amusing distraction. So I'm just making sure you won't get yourself killed. That would _suck_.”

“Screw you!” Cole snapped, lightning snapping out of his hand and shooting right at the terrorist's head- but the massive blade had been formed in an instant, was already present before he had turned around- and the charge was conducted harmlessly into the ground. Then a Reaper fired at him and the courier was forced to whip around and take him out, then dive behind a derelict car to avoid another barrage of bullets.

“You're getting distracted. Get your shit together.”

“Whose fault is this?!” The courier snapped, spinning around to blast a shockwave into the cars to send them careening into Mercer. The man easily avoided it, literally punching them to the side with the arm that was not a massive sword at the moment.

Cole grunted as his vision suddenly blurred, making four ten-foot Reapers appear in front of him. The courier hissed and unleashed several powerful bolts into their direction, causing the illusions to vanish- but something was making his headache worse. He assumed he was getting very close to the source of the tar, but that in return screwed with his head.

More apparitions blinked into reality, forcing him to roll to the side to avoid them. He didn't pay Mercer any attention, though he did feel the black whip whistle over his head and split apart another group of Reapers that tried to ambush them. Their bodies hit the ground in bloody heaps.

Cole swore at the sight of more of them approach him, guns held in trigger-happy hands. He lugged a grenade over, scattering them into every direction to quickly pick them off while they were distracted.

Then he became aware of the idling of an engine, and recognized a massive road tanker down the street, attached to the water main by several pipes.

“The source of the plague”, Cole growled. The Reapers had cobbled all of this together to poison the people of Empire with their tar. He couldn't let them- he created a grenade in his hand, intending to aim for the gas tank in hopes to blow the vehicle up.

But then he became aware of an hateful snarl and the sound of  _something_ rubbing against each other, like something moving through dry grass, and he unwillingly turned around.

Mercer's head was lowered, but his teeth were bared in an enraged snarl, while his claws had come back into existence. Cole immediately leapt backwards, grenade fizzling out in his palm as he tried to duck into a more defensive position- but the terrorist didn't even acknowledge him. Instead, he dropped to one knee, jabbed the talon into the ground and forced giant spikes out from the street just beneath the tanker to shred it to pieces. Its gas tank was pierced, and the liquid flooding the street was quickly ignited by the various burning vehicles. The entire tanker exploded in a massive ball of fire. Cole swore and flopped flat to the ground, feeling the superheated air rush over him.

“ _What was that?!”_ Moya asked.

“Found a tanker”, Cole grumbled, “Pumping black tar into the water supplies. It's gone now.”

“ _Really?”_ , Moya paused for a moment. _“The tar causing you trouble?”_

“Some”, Cole grunted.

“ _Some”_ , the FBI agent deadpanned. _“You've been talking to yourself the entire time. Like you were arguing with somebody.”_

Cole's eyes widened and he whipped around, staring at Mercer. He still stood there, still in an aggressive stance, though for now seemed to have calmed down again. Instead, he was nudging a piece of burnt wreckage with his foot. He was  _real_ , not just a hallucination. And then his head lifted and he glanced at Cole.

“I'm speaking with a pitch your phone can't capture, though you can still hear it- your senses have improved”, he answered without Cole asking. “We don't want her to ask questions, now do we?” 

He spun around and marched out of the tunnel. “There's still something left for me to do, but don't get any ideas. I will learn of it if you even attempt to contact Moya or anybody else. Keep your mouth shut, and we won't have problems with each other.”

And then he left him alone.  _For now, anyways._

Cole groaned pained. “Holy shit.”

“ _You sound off”_ , Moya noticed. _“You should get some rest.”_

“Yeah”, the courier grunted. “Sounds like a good idea. I'm heading back to Zeke. My head's killing me.”

He glanced back, watching Mercer's retreating back, before he headed off into the opposite direction. He  _really_ needed some sleep. Between crawling around in sewers, being blown up  _way too often_ , meeting the goddamn  _Terrorist of Manhattan_ himself, being manhandled by said terrorist and crawling through  _more_ sewers only to get mind-raped by some black tar, this evening was more than enough to make him drop into his bed and sleep the next few weeks away. Or hide until everything was over.

He moved out of the tunnel and headed northwards.

* * *

 

Alex sat crouched on top of a low building, watching the courier head home. He was intrigued, in a way. His powers were interesting, and he wondered whether he could copy them. He wouldn't outright consume him, though. He had his rules, and one of them was to not mess up the good guys. So far, the courier hadn't given him any excuse to feed off him, with the exception of their brief scuffle earlier- which was, incidentally, the reason he was so interested in him.

He was going to stick around, make sure the guy wasn't going to let anything slip. Plus, he figured, if he kept close to him, he might get the chance to get Moya Jones, or somebody who knew about her. Somebody who could get him close to her.

But...he glanced at the people down there, maybe he should start with figuring out how to get those powers first. He'd seen a few of those Reapers being able to teleport and create shockwaves, had even been hit by some. He wondered whether he could get them. Teleportation, in particular, sounded useful.

Though first things first- he headed back to the Smith fountain. The sick people had been brought to one of the clinics, and nobody else was around anyways. The black water gurgled slowly in its basin. The tar was organic, and highly toxic to humans. To him, however...

Alex scowled deep. The things he did for Dana...

He plunged both hands into the sludge, grimacing as his biological makeup recoiled from it. He paid it no attention, though. Water didn't harm him- he just didn't like it.

Tendrils coiled out of his arms, crawling throughout the whole polluted water, squirming from the contact. Alex snarled and focused, then began consuming anything that was organic. Algae, insects, the tar...He devoured it all, swallowed it into his own Biomass and left clear water behind. He grunted at the sensation of the tar starting to eat away at him, but that feeling quickly faded as soon he had broken the stuff down into its basic components.

He dusted his hands off and turned towards the Neon. Those white-hooded Reapers- they had powers. He was going to try and figure out whether he could copy them.

 


	9. The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Train rides through the territory of blood-thirsty junkies. Fun.

**The Rescue**

 

Cole hadn't slept very well after he returned to Zeke. He had taken a shower (one that was longer than he actually could tolerate, but he just wanted to be  _clean_ again) and had briefly wondered whether it would be worth to wash his stuff or burn it directly. But if the next day was in any way like the one before, then he would be shot at, sliced into and who knows what else. So he just dumped everything into the washing machine (even the shoes) and switched it on, then crawled into bed in hopes of being able to sleep.

He couldn't.

In his head, he could still hear the voice of the TV Jacker, calling him a terrorist, he could still see Trish's expression when she backed away, he could still hear the thunder of the machine gun turrets that killed all those civilians, he could still taste his blood, the sewer and the tar in his mouth (even after viciously brushing his teeth for ten minutes), he could still feel the impact into his body when the Reaper conduit threw him around.

He could feel his flesh fixing itself, felt how his bruised or broken bones snapped back into place and healed up.

What Moya said was there too, that the Ray Sphere literally drained the life out of  _thousands_ just to power  _his_ abilities, that there were even  _more_ conduits around. Which meant, that there were so many people, all of them powered only through the death of hundreds of others- and if he tried, he thought he could actually  _hear_ those people.

And then of course, his meeting with Mercer. He had threatened him in the most violent way possible, had instilled a deadly fear within him. He didn't wanted to be found out- and even if what he told him was just a lie, that guy was still highly volatile and aggressive, and would probably flip his shit if Cole blabbed about him. Which meant that every bump he heard, every shadow that flitted past his window jerked him awake and made him unleash lightning in fear.

He couldn't talk about him- wasn't  _supposed_ to speak about it, and he was more than aware that it made sense to keep his mouth shut about it. And no matter how much he loved Zeke as a brother, he knew he was a chatterbox. And knowing that Alex Mercer was in the city would only encourage him to talk to whoever were his contacts- and then the story would make it to Moya. Whatever Mercer's deal with her was, it couldn't be good if she was aware of him. Manhattan came back to mind, and the fact that there had been stories about a nuclear warhead. Stories that didn't make sense- because even with a genius having unleashed a deadly biological agent, biological didn't mean  _nuclear_ \- a geneticist simply had no possibilities to get his hands on a nuclear warhead.

The only ones who did were the military and the government. Cole wasn't as naive to think that it had been a coincidence that a live warhead was near Manhattan- no, they had planned to  _use_ it on the city. To stop Mercer and whatever biological nightmare he had created.

And if they were going to nuke the more important  _Manhattan_ , then Empire City would be a viable target as well. In short: there was the possibility that, if Moya became aware of Mercer, her bosses would order the strike.  _They will gladly shoot through the people to get to me._

He was pretty sure it wasn't overblown paranoia either.

All of it taken together meant that the courier couldn't sleep. Questions, dark thoughts, fear, memories- all of them whirled through his head like a typhoon and refused to settle down.

In the end, all he could do was sit against the dryer and listen to it rumble as his clothes dried. This had, in the very least, a slightly calming effect and dulled his mind to the point he could nod off a little. Still, when he woke up hours later, he felt like he had been hit by a truck. Every joint and muscle ached, and his backside was cold and hurt from sitting on the bathroom tiles the entire time. Cole yawned and stretched, hearing his joints pop and crack as he did so.

Like a zombie, he shuffled into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. They only had few supplies, and Cole didn't really feel like eating anything, but he had to keep his strength up. As he nibbled rather listlessly at his toast, Zeke joined him.

“Mornin'”, he greeted him. Cole grunted in reply.

“Rough night?”

“Mhm”

Zeke sat down, eyes glowing behind his shades. “C'mon. You gotta tell me everythin'.”

Cole glanced at him with furrowed brows. “Sewers”, he said shortly. “City areas without power make my head go crazy. And Reapers. Lots of Reapers. And mind-raping tar.” He paused. “And some sort of angry conduit nearly mauled me.”

“There are more like you?”

“Yeah. I'm the only one with thunder powers until now though.”

Zeke leaned over the table grabbing a slice of toast. “You know, I've been thinkin'. You can't turn the Ray Sphere over to the Feds, man.”

Cole sighed. “Do I have a choice?”

“Do you know what they'll do with it?! Especially if the Pentagon is wrapped up in all of this?” Zeke squeaked, “It's the ultimate weapon!”

“And what's your suggestion, _Jebediah_?” Cole ground out, clearly _not_ in the mood to discuss this. “We hide it under your couch?”

Zeke floundered. “Only my momma calls me Jebediah”, he tried to explain, before he shook his head. “That's not important right now. Listen”, his eyes glinted, “I'd say we crack that baby open and give everyone powers. It's the only way to make sure we don't get screwed.”

Cole snorted. “I think we're already screwed.” He got up from the table and moved to the bathroom to get dressed.

“Why? Don't you think it'll be cool if everybody had powers?” Zeke whined.

“No”, Cole groused. “Because I met idiots yesterday that shouldn't have powers at all.” _Especially that Mercer bastard_. “Besides, Moya told me only a few people have this 'Conduit Gene' that allows them to get powers. I have it, but I don't know who else. And let's not forget the whole 'Thousands have to die to power a _single_ conduit' thing.” He shook his head, pulling his stuff out of the dryer. “The best idea would be to blow that blasted thing sky-high. Make sure _nobody_ gets to use it.”

Zeke muttered under his breath as he leaned against the door frame. “Party Pooper”

He watched how Cole put his track suit back on, and hissed sharply at the sight of its total state. “Holy Hell, man!” He gasped, “What have you been through?!”

“Lot of stuff”, the conduit replied, “Like...” He pointed to the holes riddling the back and front of his jacket. “Bullet holes. Got shot more often than I really prefer.” He frowned at the frayed shoulder pad. “Conduit”, he added, “With claws. Thought my throat would make a nice all-purpose Cole-handle, too.” He rubbed his neck. “Nearly snapped my spine. _And_ took out three of my ribs.”

Zeke frowned and prodded his flank, earning a dark glare. “Doesn't look broken.”

“Not any _more_ ”, Cole scowled, pulling away from his friend's fingers. “But I can tell you I _felt_ every rib growing back. And it _hurt_.”

His phone chimed from the kitchen, so he headed over there and picked it up.

“Yeah?”

“ _Hello Cole”_ , Moya said. Cole furrowed his brows. She didn't sound any tired or stressed (or not more than she usually did), so he couldn't help but wonder whether that woman required sleep at all. _“I trust you had a break?”_

“I did. Didn't sleep very much, though.”

“ _Mhm. Then I do hope for your sake you'll be up for the task. I flagged the position of the next Substation on your GPS, Cole.”_

Cole blinked at his phone. A red dot was blinking there. He wasn't aware that thing had a  _remote_ marking function. “Got it.” He cleared his throat. “Uh- At the risk of sounding like a whiny brat, but I'm not  _overly fond_ of crawling back into the sewers. I mean, there should be some guys whose job it is to fix those substations. Shouldn't I'd be hunting for John and the Ray Sphere?”

He could almost hear Moya shrug.  _“You need to look at the big picture. Every time you restore power to a section of the city, your powers escalate. I'd say it's a valuable use of your time.”_

Cole sighed. She got him there. He really  _did_ become only more powerful every time he wedged himself into one of those transformers, and that was damn useful. It was just he wasn't too fond of sticking in the muck again.

He groaned under his breath, letting Moya know she won.  _“Good. I knew you'd see it my way. I'll be in touch once you get the substation back online.”_ She paused, before adding,  _“Oh. And for future references, don't leave your phone sitting around. I don't want to believe you're ...up to something behind my back.”_

“Got it.” Cole grunted. Moya cut the communication, though she would still be listening to whatever was happening.

“Aw man”, Zeke whined, “You let her order you around?”

“She has the means to clear my name”, Cole pointed out with a sigh as he headed out of the apartment door to head to the roof. “And as much I don't like her tone, I have no choice.” _Plus, it helps clearing my head._

Zeke followed him as they made their way topside. “Well, see you around, Zek.”

“Be careful, man”

“Ain't I always?” Cole jumped off the roof, falling several stories to land on the floor with a thud and a roll, then started jogging to the North-western part of the Neon, where Moya had marked the manhole. The sky was overcast, and it looked like it would rain soon. Cole frowned. He didn't really like rain, so he'd better hurry.

At the very least, the Reapers would be easier to spot and take out during the day. Plus Mercer himself wouldn't risk assaulting him- judging by their first real meeting on Archer Square and the fact he was actually hiding here in Empire. Also, the feeling of panic that accompanied him after their battle yesterday was a distant shiver at the back of his neck.

The courier headed to the roof of a building to make his way from there. Despite the few advantages, daytime also gave him the disadvantage of more pedestrians on the streets and less covering darkness, so he wasn't too keen having to run from them should they try taking him down. So staying off the ground was the best choice, as long he didn't mind sharing with Reapers.

Well,  _that_ problem was easily solved with a few well-placed lightning bolts and Shockwaves, even as he headed into the the powerless section. His head started to pound again, but he knew that as soon he'd be underground it wouldn't be as bad anymore. So he grit his teeth and continued moving.

However, as he headed across the rooftops, he quickly realized that even during the day, the damn hoodie-wearing junkies were assaulting people. Cole scowled and watched a group of Reapers turning on a small group of civilians, snarling like rabid animals.

Not on his watch. Cole leapt off the roof and dropped towards them, lightning rushing over his body to unleash a massive discharge once he hit the ground. The Reapers were flung to the side, flailing their limbs. Cole wasted no time to lunge at those that remained standing, discharging lightning everywhere to drop them. But especially to drop them before they could give off a single shot and threaten the pedestrians. The growl of an engine drew his attention. Cole whipped around, eyes narrow as a turret truck came towards his position.

_Oh Hell no!_

“Get away!” He shouted at the civilians, and rushed to meet the truck. The front was his safest bet, since they couldn't shoot him from there, but that also meant they could run him over. And the truck did speed up once the driver noticed him. Cole scowled and remembered what happened to the first truck he'd seen.

The flying AC unit took it out.

Well, he didn't have an air conditioner, but there were several cars parked along the sides of the street, many badly damaged by the previous Reaper encounters. He dove to the side, between the vehicles, and threw his arms up, sending Shockwave after Shockwave into the cars to send them flying.

Lugging around several tons worth of steel and glass did drain his reserves harshly, and made him halt with a pained expression as he doubled over panting, but his attack did have the desired effect. The truck was completely flattened by his assault, and no longer useable.

“Take that”, he growled, turning away. Taking their food, shooting civilians, poisoning the water... the Reapers made him unbelievable angry, and he let them feel it. He was going to stop them, and if he had to destroy every last one of them.

His thoughts must have showed on his face, because the civilians he just rescued backed away with wide eyes. Cole watched them for a moment, torn between trying to soothe them or not, until he decided that they weren't worth the trouble.

He did what was right, he took out his anger at the guys  _deserving_ it. Screw what others were thinking about him.

Cole paused, frowning. He realized that he really didn't give a shit about what the people thought about him. Why should it matter anyways? The idea that they'll accept him if he helped them was a mere illusion anyways. Everything he did, he did for  _himself_ . He put the substations back online to avoid feeling like shit and prevent the Reapers from hiding in the dark, he activated the transformers because he got more powers from them. He took out Reapers left and right because they pissed him off. He helped Trish to win her back. He helped Moya because he wanted to clear his own name. He didn't care of the people of Empire City.

_Right? Then what about the kid in the sewer and his family? Why did you help them too?_

Because it would be a  _dick_ move to not help them if he had the power. He didn't really care about them, but he also just couldn't walk away. He didn't like those idiots, though he wouldn't stand by and watch them suffer. He had the power to help, and he was going to help them, because it wasn't in his nature to let them rot away.

The people here didn't require healing though so he could leave them be. He turned and walked away, ignoring their voices ringing out behind him.

He found the manhole Moya marked easily enough, pried it open and slipped inside. As his feet hit the tiled platform beneath, his nose wrinkled at the smell of the sewage.  _Joy_ .

He scowled and glanced down the tunnel, finding the transformer sparking just a few yards down the place. Well, at least that thing is close-by. Who knows how long he'll have to stick around to find the substation?

He clicked his phone active. “Hey Moya. I'm down in the sewers”, he informed her, “Should have the power back on in no time.”

“ _Roger”_ , the Agent replied. Cole shut the phone off, then carefully balanced along a thin pipe to reach the transformer. He paused once he stood in front of the massive machine, but only for a moment to brace himself against the pain. Then he jumped up and latched onto the outlets to close the circuit.

The fire that slammed through him was...bearable this time. His teeth still ground together as the voltage raced through him, but once he let go, he didn't fall on his ass like every time before. He managed to land with only one knee bent. But he felt more powerful once more.

He got up and balled his fists, lightning racing across his body at a mere thought. Good.

Cole grinned and headed away from the transformer, glancing at the thick wire that was suspended between the transformer and the gateway going deeper into the sewers.

As he approached it, his body started to tickle, like pulling him in into a direction. His toes prickled and itched. Cole wondered for a brief moment, then just decided to let his instincts- whatever they were- simply take over. He hopped onto the wire and didn't even balance himself when his body lurched to the front. Lightning snapped out of his feet and pushed him to the front. Cole gasped involuntarily as he shot across the wire going easily fifteen miles per hour.

The wire was too short for that speed though, and Cole was literally flung off at the other end, yelping in surprise. He hit the maintenance area in an undignified heap on the floor, groaning from the bruises and scrapes. He struggled upright, rolling his neck as lightning washed over him and fixed him right back up.

As sudden as it ended, this power was pretty amazing. The courier grinned. It had been awesome, really. The rush of air in his face- it felt like jumping, only more controlled- and for as long as he could slide across a wire. Or, he noticed, any sort of metallic track, really. He couldn't  _wait_ to try it out on the subway tracks above.

His phone rang, and he stopped to answer it.

“ _Dude!”_ , it was Zeke.

“Hey”

“ _Have you paid attention to the TV jacker?”_ Zeke asked and his voice sounded pretty pitched. Cole could easily imagine him waving his arms around and stalking over the roof agitated. _“Used to think he was pretty righteous!”_ , his best friend continued, _“But now he spends half the time trashin' you!”_ The courier winced with a frown. Yeah. As if he _needed_ more bad publicity. It wasn't that he _cared_ about what others thought of him, but that didn't meant he enjoyed being made the most-wanted man in Empire. And the less civilian idiots he had to zap to make them back off, the better it was.

“ _Makes me think you should pay him a little visit”_ , Zeke continued.

Cole shrugged. “Believe me. I'd love to”, he explained. He really wanted to. This would be  _so_ worth it. “No idea where he's hiding, though.”

“ _Probably holed up in that old TV station over in the Historic District. You find him, you give him a taste of the good stuff. He's gotta learn not to run his mouth the entire time.”_

Cole smiled. “Got ya.”

Zeke chuckled and cut the connection, leaving Cole to head for the next wire.

He glanced at it and focused back to the feeling he had before he started the sliding. Or,  _grinding_ more likely. His toes tickled again and he jumped onto the wire. In an instant, there was lightning around his calves and feet again and he shot to the front. 

This wire was longer, and Cole leaned to the front, whooping enthusiastically from the sheer  _speed_ he was experiencing. More lightning lashed out of his arms, increasing his speed. Cole felt tears trickle at the corners of his eyes, but it was  _just so good_ . He estimated he went at twenty miles now, shooting across the wire like a meteor made of sparks.

His reaction time had greatly improved too, so he easily jumped off the wire as soon it ended and landed on another one, without even slowing down.

Cole zipped through the tunnels faster than any person could ever run. He noticed another maintenance tunnel to the front and jumped off, still going twenty miles per hour. The ground shook with a massive tremor when he landed in a roll and slowed to a near stand-still. A Reaper made a startled snarl, Cole having taken him by surprise- and he didn't manage to do anything before the conduit fried him. He hopped onto another wire and sped along it, though his heart did make a startled leap in his chest when it suddenly ended, leaving him to obey Newton's Laws and quite literally flying a few more yards through the air before he managed to land atop a large tank with slightly wobbly legs. He panted sharply, turning back to the wire. “Holy shit. That was intense.”

A grin was plastered on his face despite that. Because this new power had the  _best_ potential for some really awesome stunts. 

He jumped off the tank and latched onto more pipes, carefully swinging from one pipe to the next to reach the grates on the other side. Two Reapers thought they could ambush him, but a quick grenade thrown into their general vicinity told them just  _why_ they shouldn't even try it.

He jumped off, headed through a smaller tunnel and found another wire to grind along. A part of his brain wondered just  _how_ a bunch of maintenance workers were supposed to work here, since he couldn't even see  _traces_ of a catwalk, unlike the other two sewer parts he'd been in.

Maybe Empire employed Urban Explorers like him for maintenance, or maybe they went by boat. He didn't have any other ideas.

He did also wonder how the heck the Reapers managed to get  _everywhere_ . They were like damn flies, buzzing all over the place.

Well, good thing he was such an  _excellent_ insect repellant.

And, as he made his way further through the sewers, he figured out he could also shoot  _while_ grinding, which made the entire ability even more awesome than it already was. The only moot point was that he couldn't take sharp turns and was sent flying if he didn't pay any attention as to  _where_ he was grinding.

He headed along the last part of this tunnel, then carefully balanced across a thin pipe suspended on the ceiling to reach the substation. He charged it back up, watching how the machine started to light up bit by bit and the hum became louder.

Cole smirked and turned to head back outside. Another substation down.

* * *

 

As he climbed back out of the manhole, Cole inhaled the fresh air with a content moan. The lights all around him were working, so that annoying throbbing in the back of his skull had faded too. He hummed for a moment, before he contacted Moya.

“ _Good work, Cole”_ , she commented. _“When you're ready, I've got a couple of things I'd like you to look into.”_ She paused, and her voice lowered slightly. _“One of them might lead us to John.”_

John. John White. The guy with the Ray Sphere.

This was important here, but Cole couldn't help but indulge the more childish part of himself. The night had been shit anyways and he was only all too glad for any kind of distraction, really. He glanced up to the railroad track that ran overhead, then quickly latched onto the support beams to pull himself up and reach the top of the track.

He stopped next to the train tracks, looking around to make sure no train was coming, before he put a foot on top of the rails. His toes tickled again, making him grin. He kicked off the floor and ground along the rail, sparks flitting up behind him. And better, at the same time his natural affinity to drain electricity from any source latched automatically onto the third rail, sucking juice directly from the city grid and feeding it into him. A grin bloomed on his face as he rushed across the rails, feeling the wind whistle sharply into his face.

When his phone rang, he slowed to a stop and hopped off the rail to answer it.

“Yeah?”

“ _Cole?”_ Moya sounded...vaguely disturbed. _“Is that you?”_

Cole frowned. “Uh, yes. Why are you asking?”

“ _Because you went at roughly thirty miles per hour. And I know for fact that in your vicinity are no cars going and the train is off-limits too.”_

“Oh.” the courier blinked. “Well, that's my new power”

“ _...I see.”_ There was a pause, until Moya continued. _“At any rate, it's fortunate you already are on the train tracks then. Remember when I said the train is off-limits?”_

“And?”

“ _The Reapers have killed the entire track”_ , she told him with a stern voice, _“And they have locked up several people in an old train close to you. They want to keep the Neon in line.”_

“Shit”, Cole growled, all good mood gone.

“ _Indeed. And, aside from the fact that they have a whole lot of hostages now- John might be on that train.”_

Cole glared along the tracks, seeing the faint edges of a train there. “Want me to bust them out?”

“ _No”_ , Moya said. _“You're in the heart of Reaper territory. They'll kill everybody who'll get out. You have to move the train to a safe location.”_

Cole blinked. Slowly. “How am I supposed to do that?!” He burst out in a voice that was maybe a bit too high. “Push?!”

Moya scoffed.  _“Don't be ridiculous. You're a living third rail. Stay in contact with the lead car and it should move.”_

Right.

Cole kicked off the track again and shot across the rails at a breakneck speed. Three Reapers, who were there for guarding purposes, whipped around and noticed him, but the conduit was too fast for them. He slammed into them at full speed, unleashing lightning around him as he did so, and send all three flying off the track.

He skidded to a stop and snorted. Good. That's them. Now to the train itself...

Cole frowned, glancing at the wrecked car that blocked the tracks, but that was easily removed with a single Shockwave.

He turned to look at the train itself. The windows were boarded up with metal sheets, but he could catch glimpses of the panicked people inside through several gaps. “Just stay calm in there”, he muttered, before he hopped up and latched to the edge of the roof, then pulled himself on top of the lead car.

He looked around to check for any danger, then planted both feet flat against the metal and charged his body up. A tremor ran through the entire train before it slowly started moving. It was slow, squealing all the way and shaking like mad- but it was moving.

For about seven hundred feet or so before the thing simply stopped. Cole blinked and sent out a few discharges, but nothing happened.

“Uh. Train's stopping”, he said, scratching the back of his head.

Moya made an angry noise.  _“Reapers”_ , she huffed.  _“Must have disengaged the low-voltage feeder box under the tracks.”_

Cole cleared his throat. “Sorry to say that- but I'm a college dropout. Don't use so large words around me.” He cut Moya off before she could respond. “But as far I understood, there's a box on the underside I have to charge up to make this thing move again, right?”

Moya paused for a moment.  _“Correct”_ , she replied.

“I'll go look for it.”

Cole dropped off the train and hopped off the tracks to land on the street beneath. He startled several people around, who backed away in fear, but he paid them no further attention. Instead, he looked up, finding the metal box underneath the tracks. It blinked red, and red usually meant 'off'. He fired several bolts at it until it sparked and turned to green.

“Okay. That's that.” Cole climbed up the support pillar and climbed back on top of the train, charging up to get it moving again.

He saw red hoods poking up from beneath the rails. More Reapers. “Ah. Crap” He simply aimed his hand at them. “Say good bye”, he growled, then started firing several bolts at the guys, frying them. When the train stopped screeching once more, he let out a sigh and hopped off it again, this time he charged up while he fell to take out a whole group of Reapers lurking around on the street. They were starting to piss him off. He growled and switched on another feeder box, before heading back topside.

That was when things started to go south. He saw Reapers starting to crowd on the tracks, armed with various rifles. One had a heavy-looking pipe on his shoulder. Cole's eyes widened.

It was no pipe.

It was a bazooka.

“Shit!” He gasped. The Reaper snarled once, and fired his weapon. Cole moved. All he knew was to stop that damn thing from blowing up the train. He had taken the hostages away from them, and to the Reapers they were no longer valuable. Instead, killing them would only send a message to not mess with them.

He threw his arms up, creating a huge Shockwave that intercepted the rocket. The projectile blew up with a huge explosion, sending Cole hurtling backwards and down on the street. His ears rang and his head spun, but he couldn't leave the people behind.

No.

This would be a second Stampton Bridge massacre. And they would blame him for it, for having brought the train here.

He could not allow this.

Cole swung himself back topside, bodily tackling the first of the Reapers that rushed towards the train. He slammed the man hard into the ground and wasted no time to send thousands of volts through his brain to kill him. He didn't even try  _not_ to. He just killed him, plain and simple.

The Reapers fired their rifles. There was no cover, so all Cole could do was to brace himself, grit his teeth against the pain and power through. The bullets impacted into his chest and arms, and one hit him right in the temple. His vision flashed white, then turned gray. But anger quickly drove him forwards, and right into the Reapers. Unleashing lightning, he more or less berserked his way through their ranks, destroying them left and right in massive discharges. The Reapers snarled, trying to stop him, but Cole was much stronger.

He wiped them out within moments. All of them.

With a groan, he collapsed to his knees, panting in pain as blood soaked into his jacket and pants. He knew he needed to heal, before his rage subsided and left him without any strength. He slapped his flat hand onto the third rail, electrocuting himself. The energy rushed into him, knitting broken flesh and shattered bones together. But the sheer amount of injuries made it impossible to heal quickly- all he could do was sit there and wait until his body had fixed itself. The pain remained, even as dozens of bullets dropped down around him and the flow of blood tapered off. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be moving so soon.

He probably should, though. His head snapped up when a Reaper conduit strolled towards him. Cole pulled his lips away from his teeth in a snarl, daring him to get any closer. He was pretty sure a shockwave from him would knock him out cold and leave the people defenseless. He just hoped the guy would get his message and stay away.

He didn't and kept moving towards the courier. Cole swore, jerking upright and biting back the pain to face the man. The Reaper conduit started glowing in preparation for attack.

A black whip-like tentacle slammed into the man and silver gleaming claws hooked into his clothes. Cole gasped, knowing  _exactly_ what this claw was- before it pulled back and yanked the Reaper with it.

The conduit gave off a startled hiss when he was dragged on top of a high building, vanishing from Cole's view. He did, however, hear the loud shriek that was suddenly cut off by something...fleshy. Sounded too damn much like body parts being rended from their place and blood splattering the ground.

It should have prepared him, but when Mercer himself moved into his line of vision, a violent shudder still ran down Cole's spine. Despite him having forgone his hoodie and jacket, he wasn't any less imposing. His eyes were still cold, his expression grim. The Reaper's assault rifle was slung across his shoulder.

Their eyes locked for a moment, before Mercer turned his head slightly and fired the rifle once, simply off the cuff like some cowboy in an old Western Movie. Cole jerked back, as if hit- but he quickly realized that he never had been the target. Instead, a Reaper across the train tracks collapsed into a heap, his weapon cluttering to the ground.

No doubt he had tried to shoot him while he was distracted- but that would mean that Mercer was  _protecting_ him.

Again.

Cole grit his teeth, growling under his breath. He wasn't weak, and he didn't need someone's protection. Lightning lashed out of his skin as he scowled at the guy. He wondered what it would take him to zap that guy, though with all the Reapers running around, the people on the train were in danger if he left them. And this he couldn't stomach. He was here to make sure they got to safety, and he was going to go through with it.

Reluctantly, he abandoned his thoughts and climbed back on top of the train, charging up to make it move again. The train rumbled and began to slowly crawl along the tracks, picking up on speed along the way. Cole saw Reapers trying to intercept them, but they dropped before they even managed to get close. His head whipped around, and he saw Mercer easily rush over the rooftops alongside the tracks, picking off the Reapers with deadly precision. He didn't even bother with stopping to target, just glanced at the next one, and continued moving while squeezing the trigger. His aim was lethal. One bullet was enough to drop every single foe that dared to get closer.

But...that guy must have watched him, hadn't interrupted when they fought in that tunnel yesterday- he must have known that Cole was much stronger than those idiots. He frowned in confusion because even that bastard couldn't be so full of himself that he didn't acknowledge his powers.

Three more Reapers collapsed then and he realized that this wasn't to help him- this was to speed things up. For whatever reason, this guy wanted the hostages secured, though didn't dare acting on his own. Which didn't fit- because he had taken down Manhattan, then why the Hell would he even consider rescuing hostages? That was when he realized that there were some things that didn't add up. Sure, Mercer was a baleful asshole- but that was only the surface.

He was yanked from his thoughts when the train stopped screeching. Cole exhaled in annoyance and jumped off, dropping to the ground to fry a Reaper that thought sticking in a dead angle was going to save him. The courier swiftly activated the next box and climbed back upsides. A Reaper conduit appeared out of nowhere and slammed physically into him, knocking him off his feet. Cole hissed, trying to change their positions when the conduit snarled and tried to unleash his power against him on that short distance. It would be lethal, so Cole didn't bother with neatness. He jerked to the front, smacking his skull into the Reaper's face. The Reaper howled in surprise, giving him enough time to change their positions. He slammed his flat palm into the Reaper's face, and pinned him with the other against the ground, then started draining the electricity out of the guy's synapses. Killing him instantly.

He grunted and climbed off the body, then pulled himself back on the train. His injuries were gone by now, only the holes they've torn into his clothes and the overall soreness remained behind. He caught a glance of Mercer, who watched him with an unreadable expression.

Cole grunted, tore himself away and took his place again, charging up to make the train move.

That was when Moya called.  _“You're almost there”_ , she explained,  _“I'll let everyone know that you'll bring in the train. They'll be waiting at the station. Don't let them down.”_

She cut the connection before he could reply, leaving him to mumble “Right. And leave all the idiots to me.”

He narrowed his eyes on the blockade in front. Several car wrecks were piled together, forming a barricade, along with a turret gun. Cole grunted and balled his fists, then threw his flat palms to the front to create a powerful shockwave that hit the first car and sent it hurling backwards. It slammed into the turret, bent it and dropped off the tracks. He scoffed and repeated his action a few times, until the turret was scrap and all obstacles were gone from the track.

His phone chimed, and he answered it.  _“Nice work with the Reapers”_ , Moya commented,  _“Though my sources say it's not your work. Who else is there?”_

Cole bit his tongue, trying to not tell her that it was a wanted terrorist who was currently shooting the junkies. Instead, he forced a snort. “Don't know”, he said, “All I see are guys on the roof, taking shots at these bastards.”

“ _So many?”_

“Well, guess there are a few people left in the city that don't like those idiots running the Neon.”

“ _Mhm.”_ Moya paused. _“You're almost to the station”_ She cut the connection.

Cole inhaled relieved when he saw the station come into visual range in front of him. Good. Very good. Then he could finally get off this rolling death trap.

He froze at the sight of several dozen people standing at the platform, watching him. They didn't do anything at the moment. He frowned, but then jumped off and simply blasted the first door from its hinges, to allow the captives to go free. The hostages surged out of the train, all flooding towards the now open door and into the arms of their loved ones.

And suddenly, the people started crowding around Cole, cheering.

He stared at them baffled, unable to say or do anything as they squeezed his shoulder, shook his hand or just patted his back.

All of them were  _smiling_ . And  _cheering_ . And telling him how  _good_ he's done.

The conduit stared at them in confusion, before his expression set into a deep scowl.  _Hypocrites. All of them._

Yesterday they wanted his head on a platter, now they're treating him like a part of the family. Cole's scowl turned into a snarl, teeth bared and lightning flashing all around him. Some already backed off, fear plainly evident on their faces.

He did not  _need_ them. He did not  _want_ their so-called gratitude. It was... _nice_ , that they didn't want to outright lynch him, but their behavior  _disgusted_ him. This... _hero worship_ . Sure, it was hard, but this trip could be done with enough people too. It wouldn't have needed  _him_ , just a group of guys who were dead-set on getting their family and friends back. But people were cowards.

He saw it now. All of them. Too chickenshit to do something about it themselves.

Cole snarled at the hypocrites and released more lightning to make them back off, before he lunged off the platform and onto a balcony at the other side of the street. John wasn't among the people here, and he had no great desire to stick around any longer and drown in their 'worship'. As soon as there would be another catastrophe, he would be their boogeyman again anyways.

Screw them. He didn't need them.

“John's not there”, he growled into his phone, his good mood now completely gone. No amount of grinding along the city tracks was going to cure that.

“ _Damn”_ , Moya muttered. _“Well, good job anyways, Cole.”_

“Yeah”, he snorted. “Good job. How long until these pea-brained idiots start thinking otherwise?”

“ _That shouldn't be your concern. They are not important. John and the Ray Sphere are.”_

Moya cut the connection. Cole frowned at the phone, before he looked up to where he'd last seen the other guy.

No surprise there. He was gone.

The courier snorted and, with a last glance at the guys on the platform, turned and scaled the wall. He was going to head back to Zeke and take a nap.

 


	10. Nemesis revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole being angry, Alex being angry. Oh hi Heller. Nice meeting you.

**Nemesis revealed**

 

It wasn't in Alex's nature to  _help_ people. He had learnt that early on. He had first felt disgusted when he accidentally killed and consumed his first civilian, but that feeling had quickly faded- especially when the infected zones spread out. After that, he didn't really care what he slaughtered- Infected, civilians, soldiers. Soldiers and Infected where his enemies anyways, and the civilians- what the fuck had they been doing in the dangerous areas anyways?!

Alex didn't feel any compassion for most people.  _Especially_ stupid people. He tried to  _not_ consume innocents unless he didn't have another choice, but he usually didn't give a fuck about them dying any other way.

But when Dana told him to get his ass over to a train full of hostages, he did so because she told him to do so. He didn't care about them either way, but Dana wanted him to rescue them, so he did. He had still been a little lost as to  _how_ he was supposed to do this without revealing himself too much, though he was a little surprised to see the courier already at the scene. He had acted as a living third rail to supply the train with energy and move it out of the Reaper-infested territories.

Which did intrigue him. Already the night before, during their battle, his interest had peaked. Because logically, it was downright  _impossible_ to act as a live third rail or fire lightning through the air- there was a good reason electricity as weapon only appeared in water-dwelling animals. But that man down there not only stored and gave off electricity, but was also capable of conducting it easily.

His interest in those abilities rose quickly, though he was aware that until now, he hadn't been able to get a grasp on them. He had hunted down and consumed several of those Reaper 'conduits', yet he hadn't been able to develop teleportation (or, at the very least, an extremely fast movement from one point to another) or increased the power of his own shockwaves. He didn't know  _why_ , but apparently conduit abilities were uncharted territory and obviously impossible for Blacklight to copy.

It was frustrating- and still somewhat relieving. Because it meant that the nagging question at the back of his mind- whether he could gain electrokinetic powers- was answered. No. Simple as that- and that meant he didn't have the urge to consume the man for his powers.

Because that would be cold-blooded  _murder_ . Alex was not a saint, and certainly couldn't stand humanity as a whole- but he could still tell rights from wrongs and knew how to keep his cover. And killing people on a whim was morally wrong as well as way too obvious. He was aware that it was hypocrisy, especially coming from him- but if those people hadn't harmed him, hadn't harmed Dana or any others out of lesser reasons, then he would leave them alone. He targeted the scum of society, and those that used their power to control others- and he hadn't seen any of this in the courier.

And he had every right to.

But Alex wasn't going to go out on a whim and assume the guy was going to misuse his abilities in the future- he was only going to act once he actually  _did_ . 

However, he also didn't want to let this Moya woman know about him. He had no idea where she was from, or who she reported to, or what she wanted. He would know if he got to her to consume her, but first he needed more information.

He didn't wanted to run blindly into another military base with too many eyes and ears. While it would be no great problem to him, it was too risky as it would draw too much attention to him.

Not that he already was deep in the shit because of this. The Reapers from yesterday- he really should have cleaned the mess up before anybody would have noticed. He usually did so, or at least tried to clean up whatever was too messy to be from the 'normal' violence- but the night before...

He had been  _terrified_ when he had heard the courier's voice. It was panic- he had contacted this Moya woman and was about to blurt out about his presence here, so Alex had to act to prevent them from  _knowing_ he was here. He had no desire to see Empire go up in flames like Manhattan had- he had no urge to face Blackwatch again.

And  _fear_ he always overrode with extreme aggressiveness. It had saved him before, and it worked better for him than trying to ask nicely. Alex Mercer wasn't somebody who would  _ask_ .  
So he had outright assaulted the younger man, had coerced him into silence through violence. While socially not acceptable, he had long since realized that fear was an excellent way to make sure that what he wanted was done correctly. And it came to him more easily than anything else.

Dana wouldn't like it, but she had little saying in the matter. It was his choice, and he had long since made sure that they survived until now.

Of course it wasn't easy, usually it was his fault they were discovered- but if he kept low nobody was going to look into his direction. Which meant that he had to restrict himself to blunt force trauma and human weapons to avoid further suspicion.   
But that was possible- there were more than enough Reapers around he could take out of the equation easily to gain what he needed.

Which put him here now, trailing after the train as it slowly wobbled its way along the tracks. It was preferably, as it gave him the freedom to not having to show himself, though he did stay around to make sure that nothing out of the ordinary happened. Protecting defenseless humans was always a pain in the ass and a main spot for things to go completely wrong, which forced him to pay closer attention to the Reapers, and especially to what they were doing.

When the emergency system didn't engage and stopped the train in its motion, the young man leapt off and headed for the underside of the track to switch the low voltage feeding box back on.

As he came back up, he was stopped by several Reapers- but he made short process with them. Without Alex interfering, he could watch how the man fought. There was a lot of improvisation in it- in close combat he did a form of street brawling, at range he fired lightning bolts. Surprisingly, he seemed to aim for the chest-and head region of his foes. Out of instinct maybe, or perhaps he targeted those areas for the greatest possible damage output. The very nature of lightning meant it was rather unreliable in taking down opponents, after all easily six out of seven lightning strike victims managed to walk off unscathed- though the courier managed to push these numbers up by focusing his power on the nervous or the cardiac system.

Alex's lips twitched when he remembered Cross and his stun baton. Cross too had targeted his chest, and since he had believed himself to be human, it had actually worked in stopping him in his tracks. Now it wasn't much of a nuisance anymore- he had reduced most of his internal organs, though he had kept his remaining Biomass in a muscular structure that was working in an approximate to human muscles- along with the annoying habit of cramping when under charge. Not that he needed it- he could easily shift them for pressure-working viral tissues working on chemical instead of electrical signals, but those didn't react as fast as muscles did.  
The heat was more damaging to him though, and getting fried with a few thousand volts wasn't anywhere  _pleasant_ . Still, watching someone else get all the attention was quite interesting to watch.

And then he witnessed the man jump up to bodily shield the train from a RPG missile, watched how he was thrown through the air and hit the street two stories down with a smack, only to shoot back up and still continue to protect the hostages. Six men shooting assault rifles- high speed assault rifles- and the courier took them, despite his body being more or less shredded to bits during this. One bullet even slammed into his skull, dug into his brain- but the courier didn't even  _think_ of slowing down.

Only then he collapsed, but was still lucid enough to attach himself to the third rail, electrocuting himself- and  _healing_ himself while absorbing the energy.   
And that was intriguing all on its own- while the healing was slower than his own, it was faster than a Hunter's- though it would mean the man was able to consume electricity to increase his regeneration. And this meant that they weren't as different as they appeared at first.

Alex could admire strength and willpower. Which was why he stepped in when he witnessed the single Reaper conduit approach the downed man. Before either man could assault the other, his Whipfist snatched the Reaper and dragged him back, where Alex slammed him into the roof to consume him, taking his rifle off him while at it.

He could see the tremor run down the courier's back when he finally revealed himself and their eyes met. Though, when Alex noticed and downed that Reaper trying to shoot the other man from behind, the courier realized what he was planning. He returned to his part of the mission, though the scowl on his face was plainly visible. Understandably, nobody would enjoy working with the very same guy who manhandled them. Alex followed after them, this time plainly visible.

He figured that the Reaper conduits and the courier couldn't be the only ones with powers around. If he was spotted, then the chances were good that they expected him to be one of them- as long he didn't shift into his default clothes and he didn't use his more incriminating powers.

So he was entertaining the many soldier personas he had, simply shooting whoever dared to step into the way of the train. There was a simple beauty about this, something mechanical and  _logical_ , something that was just plain  _easy_ . He could appreciate it, even though it was seriously lacking in hilarious blood baths or glorious explosions.

The train screeched as it came to a stuttering halt, and the courier jumped off it with an annoyed expression. Alex watched him drop to the floor, discharging lightning everywhere as he took out a few more enemies, then headed back after he, presumably, switched on the feeder box on the underside of the tracks.

He noticed the Reaper conduit too late, and was thrown flat on his back. Alex had already lined up his rifle to take the guy out, but the courier was faster. Managing to shake the guy off, he then latched onto him and...just killed him. Alex lowered the gun, watching in surprise.  _How did he do that?_

He had seen lightning arching between the two of them, but it wasn't like before when he zapped the other Reaper. No, this looked...more like it did when he drained an electrical source, actually.

Alex frowned when he realized what had happened. Humans were a source of electricity too- the synapses fired electrical charges all throughout the body. He watched the courier glance at him, before he climbed back on top of the train to resume the way. Would this be dangerous to him too?

Alex wasn't sure, most of the time he was imitating a human body complete with the central nervous system and synaptic connections, as they were much faster than a virus's chemical system of information. But it took time to switch between them, and as long he was using the former...he wasn't sure whether he would be vulnerable to this electrical drain.

He didn't want to find out, especially not if it would give Blackwatch a weapon against him.

A barricade made of cars came into view, though the younger man took care of it by using those shockwaves to remove them. Quite interesting, using a sort of electro-magnetic field to push away all matter to the front. Alex scanned the area for any more opponents.

But there were none, though a train stop full of civilians came into view. He scoffed and turned around, crushing the rifle to scrap metal before dropping it.

* * *

 

Alex was already halfway through the Neon, looking for things to do, when he felt a pull at the edge of his mind. He abruptly changed his trajectory, heading towards a tall building and rushing to the roof as his world dipped into dark red and brown tones with only him glowing unnaturally white.

“ _Mercer”_

Heller. Alex frowned, glancing at the sun in the sky. It should be around noon, so a time the other should be in work, no? “Heller”, he replied, letting his voice echo throughout the Hivemind they shared.

“ _I managed to figure some things out”_ , the Evolved began.

“The guns?”

“ _And something about this woman”_

Alex paused. “Begin with Jones.”

Heller chuckled.  _“Well, there's that. I barely found anything at all.”_

“What?”

“ _You heard me. I did find birth certificates and everything up to six months ago. But after that. Zip. Nada.”_

Alex furrowed his brows. “Nothing?”

“ _Nope. As if she vanished.”_

The Blacklight Virus paused. Curiously... “She's here and she's the leader of that little occupation going on”, he explained. “And yet there are no records of her?” His eyes narrowed. “Just what does this remind you of?”

Heller growled under his breath.  _“Sounds like Blackwatch. Too fucking much.”_

“Yeah.” Alex snorted. “Though I haven't seen even a shred of black uniform here. There's what the people call a plague' going on, yet no Blackwatch.” He inclined his head, glancing at the sky. “Don't you think that's weird?”

“ _Admittedly. Though Blackwatch's not the only specialized in Black Ops fuck.”_

“You assume it's one of the others? CIA, NSA, DARPA,...?”

“ _Or the girl scouts”_ , Heller sounded amused. _“Fuck knows what they're really doing.”_

“Focus”, Alex grumbled. “Though I guess I was in the wrong about Jones. Thought she's just another face to hide behind.”

Heller exhaled.  _“You gonna open your own brand of fuck on them?”_

“Of course. You have a problem?”

“ _As a matter of fact, I do”_ , the Evolved growled. _“You're going to murder soldiers, Mercer. Marines. My brothers-in-arms.”_

Alex's lips peeled away from his teeth in a grin. “If you want to stop me, you are more than welcome to come over here and try, Heller.”

“ _Fucking Bastard”_ Heller growled. Alex knew he had won- the Evolved was far from being as powerful and tough as the original Runner was. They both knew it, and Heller had no great desire to test his strength against a thing that was easily able to overpower and consume him.

“I thought as much.” The Blacklight Virus snorted. “Don't worry. I'm not going to go on a massacre spree. I don't want any attention.”

“ _You're still going to murder people.”_

“Yes. Yes I will. However, even _you_ should know that there are always black sheep amongst them. Scum nobody is going to miss. I just have to find them.”

“ _Fucking great”_ Heller swore under his breath.

“You didn't seem to have any problems when we cleared your name”, Alex pointed out. “Again, don't you fucking worry- I'll just take out the bastards.”

“ _For your sake I hope you will- because if I hear that you've murdered good men, I will not hesitate to shove my claws up your fucking ass.”_

“Hah.” Alex snorted. “You are welcome to _try_.”

Heller growled something under his breath, before his attention was elsewhere for a moment.  _“For fuck's sake, Deeks. Let me have my five minutes of crazy. Will ya?”_

If Alex focused, he would be able to hear the other man's reply, but he chose not to. Heller snorted before turning his attention back to him.  _“Co-Worker”_ , he explained shortly.  _“They think I'm a bit fucked up in the head, though until now they haven't done any intervention to get me to a shrink.”_

“If they find a psychologist who is willing to take on a guy who can grow claws and throw around tanks”, Alex replied easily. “What about the guns, though?”

Heller exhaled.  _“There's more to say about them.”_

“Really?”

“ _Yeah. Was a bit of a bitch to check them out, though.”_

“Then spit it out.”

“ _Gun you told me about was from a shipment to Empire”_ , Heller explained, _“For the soldiers to take care of the gangs over there.”_

Alex snorted. “Right. Because I've seen so many soldiers in here.”

“ _Seriously?”_

“Heller, as far this looks, the only people doing something to stop the gangs from taking over, are me and a _bike courier_ , for God's sake.”

Heller inhaled sharply.  _“Fuck. Looks like it's even worse than I thought.”_

“The guns?”

“ _Right. So, looks like they were ordered by a General Darren Bridges. Commanding General of the eighty-second Airborne Division, Fort Bragg, North Carolina. He's on TV sometimes, claims everything's going fine.”_

“Bridges, huh?” Alex's eyes narrowed. “That's the second time I hear of him. Looks like I know who just made it to the top of my shit-list.”

“ _Yeah. Guess he had it coming then?”_

“Absolutely.”

Heller sighed.  _“Can't stop you, anyways.”_

“Where do they stash the weapons?” Alex inquired, looking around. “Because I took that one from the cold dead hands of a junkie shooting up the street.”

“ _According to the data...place called Steel Harbor.”_

“Steel Harbor?” Alex perked up. “It's over in the Warren.” He turned, glancing into the direction. “I'll head over there and check things out.”

“ _Wait a moment”_ Heller muttered. _“Huh. Can't be right. Database says the guns've been shipped over a week before the whole shit went down.”_

Alex stopped. “What?”

“ _A whole week.”_ The Evolved was silent for a moment before he continued. _“Report says that the violence in the Warren district escalated and needed martial law.”_

“Reports can kiss my ass. There was nothing out of the ordinary there.”

“ _Still, somebody managed to grease enough hands, looks like.”_

Alex snorted. “I'll check this out.”

“ _Yeah, do that, you fucker”_ , Heller grumbled. _“And don't fucking dare to contact me again when I'm on the job. Don't need to look like a mental case.”_

“As far I am concerned, _you_ contacted _me_. Not the other way round.”

“ _Thought you wanted the info as soon as possible.”_

“I did. And I am grateful you acted so quickly”, Alex smirked as he noticed Heller flounder about for words. Gratitude wasn't something he was known for anyways. “But seriously- I am going to check things out.”

“ _Means I can do my fucking job?”_

“Yup”

“ _Fucking finally.”_ Heller cut himself off, before picking up his voice. _“Yes, G. I am done being crazy. Can we just go back to the case already?”_

Alex cut the connection, his world blurring back into the natural colors. He didn't waste any more time as he leapt off the roof and soared across the sky, heading towards the Warren.

* * *

 

He had been careful about who might have seen him, but just like in Manhattan, the people of Empire just  _never_ look up. Reaching the Steel Harbor was easy.

As he was crouched down on a roof overseeing the massive complex, he became acutely aware that the entire area was overrun by heavily armed thugs. Thugs who wore trash bags.

The Dustmen?

He made his way to the side of the building and easily dropped down, mindful to soar the last distance to avoid cratering. Once he did, he carefully made his way over to where the guys in the trash bags were moving around.

His eyes narrowed on a guy just around the corner. There was not a single guard nearby.

_Perfect_ .

Alex moved closer, mindful to stay in the dark as he crept towards the man. Once he was close enough, he seized his face from behind to muffle every eventual noise, before he stabbed his flat hand into the man's ribs, killing him. As the man dropped back, Alex easily stepped to the front, taking his shape just as the man was dragged into him.

The Runner paused, frowning. He was right in his first assumption, these guys were Dustmen. He had heard of them before, but hadn't been over in the Warren long enough to consume one of them.

Unlike the Reapers, the Dustmen still had their free will. They used to be the homeless and criminals of the city, and were just a form of private army now, under the leadership of a man called  _Alden Tate_ . Alden had them take over the Warren, and build a massive tower.  _Already wondered what that thing was supposed to be_ . He mused, glancing at the massive structure jutting out of the central area of the district.

Alden also had powers, able to move things with his mind, so he was another conduit then?

Alex frowned and moved into the Steel Harbor, looking around. None of the other Dustmen paid him any attention, though he did insist on switching his disguise as soon he found a viable target.

The new guy didn't know much either, just that Alden had them take over the Steel Harbor four days after the Blast. Luckily, he'd been on the group that took over the area, giving Alex some more information.

They had found no opposition, and a container full of weapons and ammunition. There had been two more containers too, but those had been empty.

Three containers full of weapons...yes, this fit what Heller had told him. This general had ordered the weapons, stored them in the Steel Harbor- and then pulled off his men?

He wondered about that.

And not only that, but it weren't only the Dustmen who have gotten their hands on these arms- the other two containers had been empty.

It didn't take a genius to figure out where the other guns had gone: The Reapers had one third of them, and the other gang, these  _First Sons_ , had the last third.

Which left him with the question  _Why_ the ever-loving fuck they had stored the guns here where people like them could easily find them, and then  _pull back_ the troops that were supposed to guard them?

This started looking like an  _experiment_ . A social experiment.

Alex scowled, and tendrils rushed over his back. He had enough of experiments. Too many people had died already, and many more were going to die. He needed to put a stop to this.

_Moya_ . His eyes narrowed. Everything seemed to come back to this woman.

He should begin with her.

But the problem was, how?

He had already consumed one of her crew, and came to the realization that, unless he wanted to blow his cover and go overt, he had to get close to her for consumption through other means.

None of the foot soldiers at Stampton Bridge had ever direct physical contact with their own superiors, weren't even  _allowed_ anywhere near them, and that curbed in his abilities to simply sneak in.  _An adaptation of their tactics, perhaps? Against him?_

If yes, then it was somewhat worrisome, because it meant they were almost  _expecting_ him.

His phone rang, startling him. He pulled back into a crevice in the wall and picked it up.

“ _Alex?”_

“Dana?” She sounded scared. And that drew Alex's entire attention. “What's wrong?”

“ _Shit is about to hit the fan, big time”_ , Dana explained, _“A lot of people got sick, and then violent.”_

“Fuck”

“ _Could you come over here? I don't dare going outside without you.”_

“I'm on my way”, Alex promised. He paused, eyes narrowing on the group of Dustmen that discovered him and were now approaching him with their rifles lifted. “Uh, might take a moment longer though.”

“ _Just hurry, please.”_

“I will” He finished the call and let the phone slip into his pocket, as if he wasn't just being threatened by several dozen gang members in trash bags. Then he lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Okay.” He called out. “You got me. I was just snooping around.” His form blurred and settled quickly into his original shape, cutting off any reply the Dustmen could have made. Alex's grin spread across his face as his arms continued to twist and shift, turning into his lethal Claws. “Since Hide and seek didn't go as planned”, he drawled out, scraping his talons across the floor, “How about we play some tag?” His eyes flashed crimson beneath his hood, and the Dustmen backed off, own eyes blown wide under their trash bag masks. “Those that manage to run away will _survive_.”

 

* * *

 

Cole was  _not_ having a very good time. When he arrived at Zeke's rooftop, he didn't even exchange any words with his best friend except for telling him to get off the couch, before he flopped down on it himself and remained there. His bad mood was plainly visible on the outside, not only from the deep scowl on his face, but also because of the constant discharge running across his body with lightning arching away from him every so often. Zeke got the hint and didn't ask, just left him to brood. He knew perfectly well if Cole was feeling like talking, he would do so. No need to pressure him.

One hour of senseless face-squished-into-the-smelly-couch-later and the courier felt slightly better. The anger was gone, replaced for confusion and weariness.

He shuffled into their apartment, where he found Zeke sitting at the kitchen table, laptop open and a beer next to his hand. Another beer sat on the table. Cole grunted and scratched the side of his face, where some dried blood flaked off. An assault rifle bullet had hit him there one and a half hour ago. There wasn't even a scar left now, but he hadn't manage to wipe it off.

Zeke arched an eyebrow over the rim of his glasses. “Did I mention you look like shit?”

“I know”, Cole grumbled, glancing down at the front of his jacket. He had taken more bullets than ever before, mostly from short distance. His clothes were stained and torn.

He was going to need a new suit, but he was probably going to be shot at, thrown through tar and across rooftops before all of this was over, so he should hold onto that set of clothing until everything was finished to avoid ruining more.

He sat down at the table, grabbed the lone beer and popped the cap off with a lazy flick. Didn't even need a bottle opener.

“Wanna talk about it?” Zeke asked.

“Not really”, Cole replied with a sigh. “Though guess it's better if I do. Maybe you can cheer me up.”

“So, what happened?” His friend glanced over the rim of his glasses. “I mean, you come in, lookin' like a literal thunderstorm.”

“Rescued a train from Reapers”, Cole admitted.

“Oh” Zeke frowned. “People dead?”

“Only Reapers. I got the civilians to safety.” The courier sighed. “But I got so angry at these guys there, I stormed off.”

Zeke didn't ask further, just took a sip from his bottle. Cole turned his around between his fingers before he relented. “You know, yesterday, when I crawled in the sewers- I fixed a transformer. Thousands of volts go through me and I get new powers from it.”

“Cool”, Zeke’s eyes sparked. “And?”

“Healing”, Cole explained. “Restraining. Killing. After that, I got grenades, and today I got some sort of slide-along-metal-powers. Handy.” He sighed. “Yesterday, I also met a kid in the sewers. He got shot, and I tried those healing powers on him. Then I beat up a bunch of Reapers who took his folks captive.” He looked up at his best friend with a small smile. “Kid called me a 'hero'. Honestly, it felt incredible. I was somebody he looked up to.”

“Awesome, man!” Zeke grinned, clapping his shoulder. Cole sighed and his expression fell.

“Yeah, but today, the people I rescued from that train told me the same.” He snorted. “And that made me angry. You know, the kid hadn't seen me before- he and his folks went into the sewers just after this entire shit went down. They didn't know about the TV Jacker, or me being called a terrorist. But the guys on the train- they did.” 

He scowled. “They were exactly the same sort of people that threw stones at me just yesterday. Zeke, they shouted at me, told me to go die. And then- those assholes on the train suddenly tell me how  _good_ I've been. They praised me, were  _grateful._ This hypocrisy- it made me so  _angry_ .” He sighed again. “My brain was all clogged up, couldn't think straight. So I stormed off and came here.”

Zeke sighed. “Yeah. People're real pain in the ass, if you get my meaning. Can't live with them, can't live without 'em.”

Cole dropped his head onto the table, mushing one cheek against the stained plywood surface to glance at Zeke. “What am I supposed to do?” He asked.

“Hell, dunno man”, his friend shrugged. “But did you feel any better helpin' folks?”

“Maybe”, Cole muttered, “Wasn't anybody else around to do that anyways. And the Reapers have to be knocked down all the pegs, to show them Empire's not theirs to take.”

“But what about your own thoughts?”

The courier furrowed his brows. “For one- I have the power. So I used them to do what I thought I  _should_ be doing” He smiled awkwardly. “Kind of like  _Spider-man_ , you know? Plus Moya's on me too. If I don't want to end up in Guantanamo or somewhere, I probably shouldn't piss her off.” He winced a bit when he pulled a sore muscle. “But I kinda wished I would be able to do that  _without_ being shot at.”

Zeke frowned. “I don't really like the sounds of that woman, Cole. She's all bitchy and bossy and expects you to jump the gun.”

The courier exhaled. “I know”, he said. “I don't really trust her. She's kicked me out on my ass a few times too often. But then again,  _if_ she has the power to clear my name, then I don't have much choice.” He paused, frowning. “Though...” He trailed off, glancing at his phone. “Hey, Zek? Can you pull data off my phone?”

“Sure. Can do that, bro. Why, though?”

“I have an audio file”, he said, “The guy I'm looking for- John White- he identified Kessler as the one who planted the bomb.”

“Hellacious!” Zeke burst out, “With that, everybody will know who's to blame.”

Cole winced. “Yeah. Problem though- Moya's gonna have my head if this pops up before we get Kessler. And yours too- so it's probably for the best if we don't make it public before there are more information.”

“ _I would strongly recommend that”_ , Moya's cold voice cut into their conversation, making both cringe back. _“In case you have forgotten, Cole, but I can hear everything- and I have access to your phone.”_

“That's why I said we can't make it public”, the courier replied. “Don't worry, Moya- I got this under control. But the data needs to be secured, who knows how long my phone gets lucky and won't get shot?”

“ _For your sake, I hope you stay true to your word”_ The woman paused a second, before she continued. _“Mister Dunbar. In case your friend didn't tell you- you are expendable. If I notice any of what is said here has found its way into the world wide web, I will make sure you regret it. Personally.”_

“Dully noted, ma'am.”

“ _Good”_ , Moya turned her attention back to Cole. _“You are needed elsewhere, Cole. People are sick again. I thought you've dealt with the tar?”_

The tanker. Mercer had destroyed it, and taken the stuff out of the water supplies. But he couldn't let Moya know who it really was. “I did”, he replied.

“ _Well, obviously, it's back. North-Eastern side. Go.”_

Cole groaned. He was not very keen on getting sprayed with more tar. But there were people affected- and Trish was a nurse. She was probably there, fighting against the symptoms. He couldn't let her down. “I'm on my way”, he replied.

However, he grabbed a pencil and a sheet of paper off the counter and scribbled down  _'Check out Moya. Make sure you'll get the data off my phone later on. We can't risk her holding all the cards'_ . Zeke nodded as he followed his friend up the stairs.

Cole sighed and stretched. “Okay. I'm off. See you around, Zeke.” He jumped off the roof and landed on top of the subway tracks that ran past their building. He glanced up to his friend, then kicked off and ground along the rails, quickly picking up his speed.

He found and zapped several Reapers on the way, not bothering to stop to deal with them. A well-placed grenade took them out anyways.

As Cole shot along the tracks, he heard something like distant thunderclaps. Only, it wasn't thunder- it was barking. And there was only one dog capable of barking like that.

He jumped off the track and dropped to the ground, heading to where he heard the sounds. He found one of those Heavy Reapers pinned under the massive black shape of Commander, who was angrily snapping at the guy currently trying to free himself.

Cole pursed his lips and let out a sharp whistle, drawing the dog's attention. It looked at him, still snarling. “I got this”, the courier called out as he stopped next to the beast, tugging at its collar. “Get off him.” His neck was crawling and he couldn't help but throw a look over his back to search for a familiar lanky shape. Nobody to be seen, but that didn't mean anything.

The dog growled, taking his attention as it unwillingly released its prey. The Reaper snarled and tried to get back up, only for Cole to kick him into the chest once. He then balled his fist and made a claw-like motion. The electric fetters snapped into life, holding the junkie down.

The dog made a startled huff, sniffing at the Reaper curiously. Cole patted its head. “Don't worry. The bad man's not going to get up again.”

The dog suddenly whipped around, growling, before it took off and charged straight into a Reaper that just peeled out of an alley. Cole swore and followed the fur ball, realizing that there were more of these guys arriving.

And worse- he noticed Trish just on the other side of the road. Somebody the Reapers apparently took notice in as well. The courier threw his body to the front, then leapt at the first two guys who just raised their rifles. He seized both of them and slammed their heads together to knock them out. The dog barked in warning, just in time for Cole to see a Reaper squeeze the trigger of his shotgun. Cole was far away enough to avoid most of the lead shot, but he was still thrown back from the impact, though managed to flip his feet beneath his body to get a steady grip. He shot a lightning bolt at the guy, instantly downing him. A few bullets hit him, biting into his flesh, but he paid it no further mind. Instead, he unleashed a powerful discharge, frying the guys.

Moments later, none of them were left standing. Cole grunted and turned to head over to Trish and Christine, who stared at him with wide eyes. They were both kneeling over several civilians, who were on the ground, whimpering.

“Cole!” Trish gasped, “You're injured!”

Right. The bullets. Cole grit his teeth, trying to smile. “It's only half bad”, he replied. “Wait a moment-” He turned towards a lamp post, and drained it. His wounds closed, his head no longer hurt and the bullets dropped to the floor harmlessly. The only exception were his clothes, that would be stained permanently.

“See?” He said, “Only half bad.”

He paused, noticing Trish's startled face. “Hey”, he tried to reason, “See? I'm okay again.”

“Uh- Guys?” Christine's voice cut in- “Sick people getting delirious over here!”

Trish whipped around, swearing under her breath. But also Cole rushed over. A man was on the ground, thrashing wildly and screaming in panic. Between his garbled shrieks and pleas, Cole realized that the man was suffering from hallucinations. Badly. Just like he did yesterday.  
 _Auditory hallucinations. Visual too? Possibly._

The man kicked and punched unseen foes, screaming all the way. He nearly hit Christine, who was trying to calm him down, much to her dog's displeasure. The beast ducked and growled, snapping at the man's limbs at the same moment.

Cole acted. He pinned the man to the floor with a foot and unleashed lightning to fashion his lightning manacles again. The man whimpered and pleaded, but couldn't break the fetters- so he couldn't harm himself or any of the others.

“What's going on?” The courier finally asked as he stepped back, his back crawling with the latent feeling of _danger_. “Where is that tar coming from?” He shook his head, looking around. “I blew up a whole tanker of that stuff under the park, figured that would do it.”

“Well, it's coming from somewhere else then”, Christine pointed out, holding her angry dog back. “The people aren't getting sick on their own.”

“It's in the water”, Trish muttered, “But here's no fountain-” Her eyes widened. “The _water towers_ , Cole! I think it's in them!”

Like on cue, Commander suddenly barked out loud, back bristled and dark eyes fixed on something  _above_ them. Cole whirled, seeing a Reaper's hood on the building besides them.

“Reapers” He growled, lifting his hand to zap the guy and drop him back. “I'll check things out!” He called out, then hopped against the rainwater drain and scrambled up towards the roof.

Two more Reapers greeted him, but they were easily dealt with.

He heard the gurgle of the black tar, and looked up. Attached to the side of the water tower was a small tank with pipes. Reaper technology? But where did they have it from?

He activated his phone, calling Moya. “Moya”, he greeted. “Sick people all over the place. The water from the water towers is infected.”

“ _Can you figure out how they did it?”_

“Yes. There's a weird metal keg attached to the tower. Tar's dripping out of it.”

“ _Clever”_ , Moya noticed. _“That must be how they're polluting the water. Destroy it.”_

_With pleasure_ . Cole grabbed the sides of the keg and unleashed lightning, frying its pumps. The keg made a loud groaning noise as it unleashed its entire contents before exploding.

Cole swore under his breath. “Shit!”

“ _What's wrong?”_

“I just made it worse”, the courier moaned, “Tried to overcharge the pumps.”

Moya clicked her tongue angrily.  _“These damn Reapers. They're learning.”_ She huffed out.  _“Try to blow up the keg without targeting the pumps.”_

Cole frowned. “If I do, I'll get the crap all over me.”

“ _It'll save lives.”_

Cole exhaled. “Yeah. I know. Doesn't mean I am really happy to do that.”

Moya cut the connection, leaving him to continue. Cole leapt off the roof against the building at the other side of the alley and scrambled upwards, latching on window sills and crevices to pull himself up.

Just as he hoisted his body over the edge, a bullet cracked into the ground in front of him. Cole wasted no time to throw his arm out, shooting a lightning bolt into the direction of the Reaper that tried to ambush him.

With no further obstacles to deal with, he climbed to the top of the next water tower. He paused, frowning at the keg. If he overcharged the pump, he would remain clean, but more people would be poisoned.

He couldn't risk this. He didn't want to harm people, not innocent ones and not with this crap, and he didn't want to lose Trish. If anything, he'd seen she still felt  _something_ for him, and he couldn't disappoint her.

He grit his teeth and threw his arms out, blowing up the tank with a shockwave. The tar sprayed  _everywhere_ , getting into his eyes and sticking to his clothes and face. The backlash from the explosion also knocked him off the tower, sending him tumbling into the streets. His head was throbbing in dull pain and his vision turned blurry and red, so he couldn't really watch where he fell.

He slammed onto the floor hard with the back first, gasping in pain. He was away from Trish and Christine too, so they didn't witness it. Small mercy, because Trish would be devastated with grief and panic.

“ _I know it hurts, Cole”_ , Moya spoke up, trying to sound soothing, _“But it's the only way. Too many people will get sick otherwise.”_

“I know”, Cole ground out, staggering upright and heading out to the street. The civilians around him blurred out of focus, some grew, some turned into Reapers.

But this was all not real. Nothing was.

He growled and rubbed his eyes furiously, getting more and more of the stuff off. The effect faded quickly, though, and after shaking his head to clear his vision, he headed topside once more. He couldn't waste time feeling sorry for himself if there was so much left to do. He found another tower, guarded by Reapers. It was clear they didn't want any of those kegs destroyed.

Well, tough. Now they had to deal with the consequences. Cole's expression darkened as he watched the guys careen off the roof after he smacked them with a shockwave, allowing him to climb up the water tower.

He slammed another shockwave into the tank, destroying it and getting doused with the stuff once more. He swore, stumbling back, but managed to stay on the roof this time. His head started to hurt, threatening to split open as he barely managed to get away from the tower and onto the roof. He wouldn't move anywhere, though, not before the effect wore off.

It did, surprisingly fast, too. So either this stuff wasn't as potent as the stuff from yesterday, or Cole was becoming more resistant towards it.

He hoped the latter, because those head trips really grated on his nerves.

He did wish it would clear up faster, though- the longer he wasted his time trying to avoid stumbling drunk across the rooftops, the longer the tar could affect the people, and they, in return, might attack Trish. Cole was worried for her health, so as soon his vision had taken a turn for the normal, he continued moving to find the last of the water towers.

Reapers shot at him from the roof of a hotel. Well, at least they announced the presence of the pumps so helpfully by trying to take him down. Cole scowled and rushed into the blind angle of the building, then quickly pulled himself up, taking the guys by surprise as they were looking for him in the wrong direction.

A white hood appeared at the edge of his vision, and he threw himself to the side, swearing. The shockwave that rushed along the floor missed him only by inches, and his insides still coiled painfully from the proximity. The Reaper conduit snarled and aimed his rifle at him. Cole ripped his arms up and smashed one shockwave of his own into the guy to stagger him, then dove at him and tackled his shoulder into the other's stomach, knocking all breath from his lungs. The man hissed in surprise and teleported away. Cole send out a radar pulse, pinned his location, and started shooting lightning bolts into his direction. The Reaper went down, but Cole also collapsed to his knees, groaning. He felt drained.

He shouldn't have used up  _that_ much juice, should he? Usually, he could go for much longer than that.

_The tar._

Cole's eyes narrowed as he dragged himself to an air conditioner to drain it and replenish his energy. The tar not only messed with his senses, but also weakened him.

_Thank God this shit was not permanent_ .

However, it meant that there was no way for him to try stick his face into the stuff any more than he'd had to. But still, he wasn't going to endanger anybody else by  _not_ destroying the tar kegs. He ground his teeth together and climbed to the top of the next water tower, blowing up the tank and getting another spray of tar to the face. 

He reeled back, dropping back to the roof with a poorly-contained swear, lightning arching all around him. His radar senses ran haywire, and his vision was blurring out of focus once more, but there was the feeling of  _danger_ , and Cole just barely managed to roll to the side.

Seconds before the rooftop exit exploded in a violent flurry of fire and rubble.

Cole whirled around, vertigo taking its toll, at the sight of the blast. He heard a faint snarl, drawing his attention towards a roof on the other side of the street. He saw a Reaper there- one with a bazooka.

A rocket was launched towards him. Cole's eyes widened and he flung his arms out, grinding his teeth together as the entire roof made a back flip, but his shockwave did hit the missile in mid-air. And not only that- he managed to literally turn it right around and send it back to where it came from.

The Reaper went up in flames.

Cole groaned and dropped to the ground, willing the tar's effect to wear off. It took too long for his taste, but there was nothing he could do to speed it up. He grunted and shook his head gently, then slowly climbed back to his feet to check for other water towers. He found another one, just across the parking lot on top of a larger office building. Luckily, this building didn't have a smooth glass facade, making reaching the top easy. There was also only one Reaper nearby, and this one was easily dealt with. But he really didn't want to suffer from another head trip again. The last one had been worse than the one before, and that had already been more aggressive than the first. More contact with the black tar would probably make his brain leak from his ears. Or, at the very least, feel like it.

Maybe he could try something?

Cole exhaled and focused for a moment, then lifted his hands towards the tank. With one mental command, he unleashed a shockwave, though this time he relaxed his muscles to propel himself backwards and away from the spraying tar.

He hit the rooftop at an awkward angle, his shoulders and back of his skull taking most of the blow. But it worked nonetheless. He had avoided the black tar. He grinned, even as he rolled his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck to get the knots out from his rough landing.

“Guess that's it”, he mused, looking around. “No more tar kegs.” He slowly got to his feet, dusting off his pants, when he realized just how _silent_ everything had become. There had been several Reapers on the other roofs, but now...

Cole glanced around, noticing with a start that every Reaper within the closer vicinity lied in a crumpled heap on the rooftops, some hanging half over the edges, or having splattered against the floor beneath.

_Somebody_ had taken them out. Cole swallowed hard, looking around. This was better not be Mercer's work again.

A hooded figure drew his attention, making him whirl around in mild panic. He noticed three seconds later that it wasn't Mercer. But...that one over there wasn't one of the Reaper conduits either.

No, he was moving with too much purpose, striding across a lower rooftop like he owned the city. Cole frowned, then jerked back startled when the guy suddenly vanished- and re-appeared directly  _next_ to him. He had teleported- and much farther than the Reaper conduits could go.

He stared at the man, muscles tensing in preparation for battle. His heart was beating faster, and his blood started boiling.

Something was... _off_ about that man.

But...he didn't  _look_ too dangerous. He was an old man. His chin was hidden by a gray scarf, his white trench coat was tattered and his sweatshirt's hood was over his head, hiding the wrinkled face. He had a metal gauntlet attached to his right arm (a glove?), and he had several metallic, blue glowing attachments on his dark undercoat. He didn't look like a Reaper, though, mostly because Reapers didn't wear shoes. Cole could see a scar on his face, but it were his  _eyes_ that made him feel uneasy. They were literally glowing blue, with no discernible iris or pupil.

While Cole was rooted to the spot, not knowing whether to run or to fight, the man glanced at the broken tar pumps. His lips were quirked upwards in a small smirk.

“She's going to be pretty pissed about this”, he noted. Cole's back went ramrod straight. He _knew_ that voice, damnit. He had heard it somewhere before- but he couldn't really place it. The only thing he knew was that the guy could probably disarm an army with his voice alone.

He tried to work his tongue. “Who the Hell are you?” He asked, carefully.

The man's smirk seemed to grow a bit. “Just a concerned citizen”, he told him. Cole furrowed his brows. _Riiight. Of course he was._ Something was just  _wrong_ with that guy. His guts said so.

This better not end up with him being dragged across the rooftops with giant claws again.

The man's voice dropped suddenly into a sort of threatening sneer. Every alarm bell inside Cole's head started blaring. All that went through his head was  _Danger_ . He had to get  _away_ .

“Now hold still”, the man said- and lunged towards the courier.

Cole couldn't react quick enough. Nobody should be moving  _that_ fast!

He was too slow to react when the man reached him, digging icy fingers into the younger man's temples. Cole struggled against him, every inch of his consciousness screaming at him to  _run_ \- when his body suddenly went limp.

Images flashed in front of his eyes. Horrible images. He couldn't recognize any of it, but he was aware that this was total and utter  _devastation_ he saw. Fire flashed before him, the feeling of panic and horror turned his blood to ice as he watched. He saw cities- unknown to him- vanish in domes of light and flames. He saw people reduced to charred bones at the blink of an eye. He heard innocents scream, he  _felt_ them die. He  _saw_ the world dying.

And in the center of it all was a massive burning figure, roaring into the blood red sky.

His brain lurched with one clear notion: The man was showing him the  _future_ .  _This_ was what awaited him? Death and destruction on an unimaginable scale. And the man- the man who was holding him- was responsible for all of this.

His body was shaking so badly, he had no control over his muscles as the man released him, letting him drop to the ground in an undignified heap. It was even worse than his meeting with Mercer the night before. He hadn't been that  _afraid_ when facing the terrorist. But this man, this old man- he was dangerous. Cole groaned, trying to get his body to move, tried to get the tremors wrecking his system back under control.

Trying to get  _away_ as far as possible from the- Cole inhaled sharply. The man was gone.

He whipped around, trying to catch a glance of the white coat, but there was nothing to be seen. He was utterly alone.

But the voice- the  _voice_ of the old man.

He now remembered where he heard it before.  _I believe you're holding a package for me. You're exactly where you should be. See you soon, Cole._

That was before the blast. That had been before the Ray Sphere blew up, killing thousands.

And that meant... Cole gasped in terror and scrabbled against his chest, trying to get his phone to work.

“Moya!” He snapped, panicking.

“ _Cole? There was some heavy static on your side. Is everything alright?”_

“No! Nothing is alright!” The courier more or less screamed. “Shit, Moya! I've just seen this guy!”

“ _What guy?”_ , Moya asked, then her voice pitched. _“John?”_

“No- not John”, Cole's fingers were trembling. “Kessler!”

 


	11. No Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex finally tries to show some friendliness towards Cole. Smells like a plot.

**No Protection**

 

Moya frowned as she cut the connection after she told the courier to get back to his friend and get some rest. She glanced over her many screens, watching how Cole's tracking signal didn't move. Probably was still out of the loop.

Well, she couldn't really blame him for standing besides himself after meeting the bastard who blew up the Historic, but it was such an _inconvenience_ to her job. If MacGrath had a nervous breakdown, then she would have to find _somebody else_ to find White and the Ray Sphere. This would be a major _setback_.

Moya scowled angrily. _Kessler_. Bastard was screwing everything up.

DARPA had great plans for his work, had funded him and his First Sons with millions of dollars- and what for? A broken agreement, several dozen of her men dead and a crater in the middle of Empire City. Kessler was going _down_ , but they needed the Ray Sphere before that.

Moya scowled, marching off to the side with her heels clacking sharply against the floor.

“Ma'am?” One of the technicians asked. “What are we going to do now?”

“Figure out what he told him”, Moya ordered, “And keep a close eye and ear on him- we don't need him to disappear _again_.”

Like yesterday. She hadn't been at the scene herself, but her men were. Cole had vanished, his phone had been lying on some roof over them- and just across the street was a scene of _massacre_ . She did remember what he said, before the connection was lost. _I'm not sure I can take that guy!_ He had shouted, and that had been genuine fear. He assumed it was another conduit- one with claws, seemingly. And, seeing the aftermath of that guy taking out a bunch of Reapers, that much seemed to be true.

But seriously, where the Hell did all those freaks come from? Kessler was bad enough, then Cole. Sasha and Alden came next, both of them displaying powers they didn't have _before_ the blast. Then, of course, those Reaper conduits Cole described. And now that guy with the claws? This was getting ridiculous.

She assumed they were lucky Cole got back in one piece afterwards. If he had died then they wouldn't have any chance but to get into the city with their force, and get White and the Ray Sphere that way. The civilians might have not been too happy about this, plus the public was going to frown on their invasion. Not something Moya really wanted to go through with. Invasions into American cities were always such a _messy_ business.

However, as it was, it might get even _worse_ , Moya thought with a frown. She glanced over the pictures her guys had taken of the scene- a sight that made several hard-ass ex-Marines throw up like little girls that couldn't hold their liqueur. A grim scowl pulled the edge of her lips down.

This mess was _too much_ for a single conduit, even one with claws. They had found the remains of about a dozen reapers, bullet shells strewn everywhere and the guns stained with gunpowder residues. They had fired on whatever had attacked them- but they hadn't managed to fight it off.

And that thing apparently also wrecked an entire turret truck, spearing it from beneath- with what? The only explanation was _giant spikes_.

With all the super-powered freaks now running around, this was no great surprise, really. But the entire situation made her uncomfortable. The _sheer_ amount of wanton destruction- no, there was only one explanation.

Her lips curled into a frustrated grimace. That explanation _was not_ _possible_ , however. That thing was supposed to be _dead_! Nothing survived being blown up with a god-damn _nuke_!

But what about those rumors she heard from before Manhattan finally kicked the bucket? This thing- had it really been back?

She glanced at the phone sitting on the desk. If it really _was_ that thing though, then she should probably call those that knew how to deal with it.

 _Blackwatch_. That name rolled off her tongue with a bitter taste. Founded by DARPA, then turned independent. They were deeper in secrecy than DARPA was, and they were so powerful even the President had to look up to see them.

But...Moya's eyes narrowed. If Blackwatch rolled in, they would take total control from her, and gun down everything that looked suspicious to them- including Cole. She snorted and turned around, glaring back at the screen. No, she would _not_ call these bastards. This was _her_ job, _her_ mission. Nobody was going to take this away from her.

Plus...they couldn't be sure it was _ZEUS_ , could they? Until now, they didn't have any proof, other than a scene of slaughter.

...Fuck it. Even if it _was_ ZEUS, she would not call in Blackwatch. Empire City was hers- the Ray Sphere was hers. Even Cole MacGrath belonged to her. Nobody was going to take any control away from her.

* * *

 

It took Cole a whole hour to stop shaking. It wasn't so much the realization that it was _Kessler_ \- that he was a conduit like he was, that he was there in front of him what made him freeze in fear and glued him to that rooftop.

It was what he showed him. The images. The smells. The sheer _panic_ . Cole had never felt this much fear in his life before, though he was sure as Hell this wasn't his _own_ fear. No, this was something that came from somewhere else, like Kessler had taken the terror from many people and stuffed them down his throat.

Leading to a total nervous breakdown.

It took him twenty minutes to be able to _breathe_ again, twenty more to stop trembling, and another twenty minutes until the tremors had finally died down.

Kessler was to blame for this- was the one responsible for this future he'd seen. Cole didn't know _how_ the Hell he even ended up in all this mess- but he _knew_ he had to stop Kessler. He had to prevent this future from happening. He _had_ to- for Trish's sake.

There was no time to feel sorry for himself.

Cole growled and pulled himself to his feet, stumbling slightly when his legs refused to take his weight. He snorted, lightning flashing across his body agitated. He could not let this stop him, damnit. He was done being scared. He wouldn't be scared anymore. No longer.

He would find Kessler and he would stop him. To do that, he needed more power and to figure out where he was, though he was almost certain he was _not_ in the Neon- so he would head over to the other districts soon enough.

Once he had taken down the Reapers and made sure the Neon was secure.

For now, he headed back to where he'd seen Trish and Christine last. He could need their input about where Reaper nests were, about how he could continue from there on. And maybe whether they knew something of Kessler or the other districts. He found them quickly enough, sitting on a low bench with both of them looking ragged. Christine's dog sat next to them, glaring at the passing pedestrians. More medics were spread across the place, moving around to take care of the people there. Cole's back was still crawling with panic, but as long he knew that she wasn't in danger, he knew it was just residue feelings. Nothing serious.

Cole dropped off the roof he was currently on, and hit the ground hard. The two nurses jumped startled, then relaxed as he approached.

“Shit. Good work there, Cole”, Christine claimed, “Whatever you did- it stopped the spreading.”

“Yeah. Tar kegs attached to the water towers”, he informed them, “Had to blow them up.”

“Thaaaat would explain your getup”, the blonde nurse commented. “You kind of look like you took a bath in that stuff.”

Cole glanced down on his suit, frowning. He was really splattered with the tar. It seemed like he had to shove his stuff into the washing machine again. He looked around, seeing many people that were brought into ambulances or treated stationary. “How bad is it?” He asked silently.

“Not so good”, Trish replied with a sigh. “So many got sick from this stuff. And the clinics are overcrowded. We don't have much space left for them.”

Cole frowned. “Is there...anything I can help with?”

Trish shook her head. “I don't think so. We can't do anything for them. We can only wait until that stuff wears off and make sure they don't hurt themselves during that time.”

The courier inclined his head. “What about injuries?” He asked, “Bullet wounds, cuts, this kind of stuff?”

Christine shrugged. “Lot of people got shot by those fucktards. We're stretched too thin, and we need the medical supplies everywhere. Hey, if you know where to get supplies, we would be grateful.”

Cole's lips twitched up in a little smile, despite the cold panic still gripping his middle. “I know something better. I can help you fix the injured up, then you'll have more room for the poisoned people.”

“You”, Christine deadpanned. “You have a medical degree I know nothing about?”

“No”, Cole replied. “But you have seen how I heal myself when I get injured, yes? Well, what if I told you I can transfer this ability on whoever I'm touching?”

“I'd say you're crazy.”

“It's easy to explain, really”, Cole insisted. “You know, I can increase my own regenerative skills as long I've got juice. I can also help others with it.” He furrowed his brows. “I tried it yesterday- with a kid that got gunned down by Reapers. Fixed him right back up.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Listen- I just want to help.”

“Why?” Trish asked.

“Don't know”, Cole shrugged. “Maybe to show that I am not the bad guy here? Maybe to tell everybody that I am better than what they think of me?” This wasn't entirely true. He didn't really care what the others thought about him. Only Trish's opinion mattered. “I know you think _I_ was responsible for this blast, but I wasn't. You have to believe me.” He grabbed his phone, holding it towards them. “I have _proof_.”

“I know”

Cole flinched back, staring at Trish. The nurse sighed. “I _know_ it wasn't you, Cole. You are a courier- it is your job to transport stuff.” She glanced at him, eyes blank. “I do not blame _you_ for what happened. But...” She trailed off with an exhale. “I've seen you getting shot at. After what happened to Amy...I don't think I can watch you die as well, Cole. I _don't_ want to see you die.” She paused. “I...don't want to see you fall.”

Cole blinked. “Fall? What do you mean with that?”

The nurse looked away. “You have so much power now, Cole. What if you grow tired of the way we are treating you? What if you attempt to make things right, but in the end you will just end up tearing everything down? I know it isn't in your nature- but power corrupts.” She shook her head and took a few steps. “I am not angry at you, but I just don't know what to expect. I don't know what to believe anymore.” She glanced back at him. “Until I know, please understand I can not be anywhere near you. I'm sorry, Cole.”

She walked away, leaving Cole to stand there in silence.

Christine cleared her throat awkwardly. “Hey, uhm-”

He glanced at her, watched how she struggled for words. “Don't take this personal. You _know_ she still loves you. The whole situation just fucked her up bad time, so she needs some time.”

Cole exhaled. “I know”, he said. “You'll take care of her, okay?”

“Don't worry. She's in good hands.” The nurse grinned a bit. “Now to you- you said you were going to help us fix the people, right? Were you being honest?”

“I was”, he replied. “Though just that you know- I'm doing this for _myself_.”

“I understand. Less people who want your head on a platter. Got it.” She glanced at him. “You said you had proof?”

He nodded. “An audio file. Man named John White identified a guy named Kessler as the one responsible.”

“Kessler?” Christine frowned. “I think I heard that name somewhere. Wasn't he the boss of the First Sons?”

“He is. Though that is all I can say.” Cole inclined his head, frowning. “If you figure something about him, anything, I'd be grateful.”

“I can try, though my options are limited”, the blonde replied. She clapped his back. “C'mon. I'll get you back to the nearest clinic to start with your magical Jedi hoodoo.” She paused, glancing at his clothes. “Though I _insist_ you wear something clean.”

* * *

 

Quite frankly, Alex had been surprised about the courier. He had been _scared_ \- that much he could tell from the scent of adrenaline, the increased heartbeat and the constant tremor in his limbs- yet he didn't act the part. Instead, he had showed up at the clinic and, after switching into a pair of scrubs to wear something while his clothes tumbled through the washer and dryer, he went on to fix the injured civilians. Alex was no great fan on electricity, and seeing the lightning arch all over the wounded people made him flinch back with a snarl.

But then he watched how the cuts and bruises simply _vanished_ in front of his eyes, growing shut almost similarly to how he healed. It surprised him, because he wasn't aware those powers could be transferred to _somebody else_.

Well, it wasn't actual _transferring_ , it was more like the courier used the energy surging through himself to increase the natural self-healing in other humans to his own levels. At any rate, he had busied himself for several hours, fixing up anybody in every clinic in the Neon who had internal or external injuries, before he finished exhausted and returned home.

He wondered about this. So far, none of the people in the city had given him any reason to actually _help_ them, and yet here he was, fixing them up _without_ any reward- though, he assumed, the courier did it to impress his girlfriend and/or to make a few allies in a city that was out for his blood. Whatever floated his boat, Alex didn't care. Friendliness wasn't something he found indulging in worthwhile.

But he did recognize a potential ally if he saw one. Though they hadn't started out all too great (dragging somebody around and threatening to _murder_ them might be a bit rough for a start), he was hopeful the courier would listen if he gave him something he needed. Worked when Cross contacted him and worked when he himself started dealing with Heller.

Luckily, Dana had managed to figure some things out about this Moya woman. Things Alex was certain the courier was going to want to hear. If anything, the man didn't trust her any more than he trusted _him_ . So he waited for the next day to come while taking down a few Reaper hideouts and stealing as many of their weapons as he could, before he went to the courier's apartment he shared with that fat man, then followed him unseen for a while. The courier had moved across the rooftops for a while, then started to check up on the satellite dishes. Alex found himself briefly confused, until he realized that he was collecting the encrypted message logs _somebody_ had left there.

It was easy listening in, his senses were highly superior to that of normal humans. Most what was said didn't sound interesting: it were mainly descriptions and requests for extraction, left by a man who seemingly worked undercover. But then he heard the name 'Kessler', and his attention was drawn. Kessler- the name the courier had mentioned, as the one responsible for the bombing.

 _"Was introduced to Kessler today.”_ The voice from the recording explained. _“He has some kind of metal device attached to his right arm, and his face was scarred, probably the result of an accident.”_ Alex's eyes narrowed. A description was helpful, though to him it was easy getting better and more reliable information. _“One of the other guards said that Kessler had been the leader of the First Sons for decades, but that he vanishes for long periods of time.”_ The voice continued. He seemed to pause for a moment before he added: “ _Initial impression is that Kessler is a true believer. He has an agenda, and he’s going to carry it out. We may have to move against him sooner than we initially planned.”_

Alex agreed with the agent on that one. Fanatics, and people driven by their own desires, were dangerous. Though until now all he heard was somebody attempting to undermine a cult. It was hard to believe that a cult could be responsible for what happened here.

However...what if this Kessler only _used_ the cult on the front. Used their connections and resources to create the bomb. But then again _what for?_ To give that courier powers?

Why?

Logically, it made no sense, because all he achieved in that way was to create another enemy. Alex couldn't believe that anybody actually _wanted_ to make somebody into a foe able to defeat them. This wasn't human nature. And, right now, it didn't look like Kessler was trying to demonize the courier. No, the entire situation looked more like a testing ground- to train the courier. What for?

It made no sense at all.

Down there, the young man frowned and looked around, glancing over the rooftops suspiciously. Did he notice him? Or was he just looking for more Reapers to fry?

Speaking of Reapers- they had gotten more silent since yesterday. There were a lot less patrols around, as if they had pulled back. To gather their strength?

Between him and the courier hunting them down and blowing up their tech, Alex assumed they weren't all too keen to work themselves into the ground. Whatever it was, at least it meant he had more time now to continue with what he had planned because Dana wasn't in any immediate threat anymore.

Satisfied with his cursory search, the young man turned his attention towards his phone to call his roommate. Obviously, he was going to return to their apartment. Alex sighed- He would like to speak to him without any witnesses.

So he moved out of his cover and into plain view, noting the courier going ramrod straight, then immediately crouching into a defensive position. Alex didn't wait for him to contact anybody else and jumped over to the roof the other was on, hitting the gravel and tar with a heavy thud, while shooting out his Whipfist at the same moment. The courier flailed back with a swear, but couldn't move out of range fast enough. The silver claws seized the phone and plucked it off the strap of his bag, then Alex reeled it in, glancing at it before he dropped it into the pocket of his jeans to drag it into his Biomass and cut it off from the outside.

The courier scowled and charged up, letting lightning rush across his arms, and Alex slowly lifted his hands. “I'm not here to fight”, he said simply. “I want to talk.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Sure”, he growled, “That's why you just attacked me. Right?”

“I needed access to your phone”, Mercer replied. “I don't want your contact to hear what I have to say.” Well, to be honest, he could have done this by simply speaking in a low pitch again, but this time the courier didn't have any contact with the black tar, and a conversation with a partner who was inaudible would arise suspicions. Taking the phone off him was the easier choice. “You'll get it back once we're finished”, he added.

The courier glared at him, his shoulders were still in an aggressive stance, but the lightning had stopped for now. “What do you want?” He growled.

Alex inclined his head. “What do you know about Moya Jones?”

The courier flinched back, lightning back up to defend him. This had been the first question Alex had back on that roof. Though, this time, he didn't expect an answer.

“I assume she told you she's FBI, right?” The minute twitch in the other's eyebrow told him as much. “Well, here's the news for you: She no longer is. She _was_ FBI, working in the upper echelons, until she caught the eye of somebody else six months ago.” He paused, inclining his head. “DARPA.”

That got his attention. The young man's head tilted to the side. “DARPA?”

“I don't blame you for not really knowing about them”, Alex shrugged. “ _Defense Advanced Project Research Agency_. Their job is to find new technologies for the government to use. Weapons, mostly.”

The lightning stopped altogether and the man's expressions turned quizzical. “Weapons?” His eyes darkened rapidly as he quickly pieced the things together. “That why she wants the Ray Sphere?”

“Ray Sphere?” Alex furrowed his brows. “The bomb?” He mused for a moment about this. “If it _is_ a bomb, then there's no wonder she wants it.”

“What do _you_ know about DARPA?” The courier growled. “You could be telling me bullshit for all I know.”

Alex lifted his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “DARPA had been the one responsible for Manhattan dying. They laid the foundation for the viral outbreak, though it was an offshoot of them that made things only worse.” He cocked his head. “At any rate, the Ray Sphere should not end up in their hands.”

The courier snorted. “I already came to that conclusion”, he told him darkly. “I'd rather blow that thing sky-high than hand it over to her. Mostly to add insult to injury”, he added, after a moment's thought.

Alex grinned. “Good choice”, he praised. “Though for your sake- I hope you're ready for the Fallout. Moya is powerful.”

The courier scoffed. “I know. Though I am going to find a way.”

“Hiding won't work. You see, DARPA has its hands everywhere. They can find you whenever they want wherever they want. If you want to get her off your back, you need to get her to stop out of free will.” He paused for a moment. “Blackmail works pretty well.”

The younger frowned. “Why do you care?”

“As I told you, your powers are interesting. And dangerous. I'd very much prefer nobody getting any kind of control over them”, Blacklight replied. “And, we are similar.”

“Similar? Sounds like bullshit. I am not you.”

“You aren't”, Alex mused. “Nobody's like me.” And the last thing that was he killed with his own hands. “But the entire situation is similar. You and I- we both were blamed for things we had no power over whatsoever, being called _terrorists_ even though we were merely bystanders who just ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time.” The younger man frowned, expression turning thoughtful. Alex vaguely waved his hand through the air as he continued. “Both of us were forced to fight to survive, against an entire city trying to take us down. Though luckily, our abilities allow us to survive where others would perish.”

He lifted his hand and shifted to his claws for demonstration. In the bright light, the entire process was better to see, the talons less threatening than in the dark. The courier still flinched, but remained where he stood as he carefully glanced at the lethal organic weapons when Alex made no move to assault him. “You woke up at the bottom of a crater. I woke up in a morgue with two guys about to vivisect me.” _Hey, I knew this guy. He was Blacklight._ He cocked his head. “I got out, and then masked soldiers just started _shooting_ me, when I had no clue where- or _who_ I was. I managed to get away. And then I figured out that somebody created a weapon. A weapon that killed _thousands_ \- and left me as the sole survivor with shiny new superpowers.”

The courier's head snapped up, eyes wide. His jaw tensed a few times, though he didn't say anything. Alex assumed he was realizing how things looked. Their eyes met. “Like I said, we are more similar than you think.”

“You aren't lying”, was the baffled statement. “I know how lying looks like and you are not doing it.”

“I wouldn't. This is too important.”

“What do you want?”

“An alliance”, Alex explained. “You can move more freely through the city than I can. I am still in hiding- you aren't.” That wasn't necessarily true, but the courier wasn't aware that Alex was able to take someone else's form. Didn't need to know, either. “There is nobody else to take care of this, nobody else who can deal with this without wasting even more time. The lockdown needs to end as soon as possible. The faster this ends, the sooner either of us can go their own way.”

“Really?” The courier drawled out. “And you're doing this from the bottom of your heart then, hm?”

“Fuck no” Alex snorted. “Screw the people here. I don't give a damn.” He shook his head. “But the situation is a powder keg. Any spark can set it off- and I rather it doesn't. Because if the situation escalates, then they will declare martial law. Soldiers will invade, gun down everybody and tell the public it was 'for the best', then keep on lying until their lie has become the truth. I can not allow it, because it would mean that they had won- and I can not risk people realizing that I am still alive.”

The courier frowned and looked over his shoulder, scanning the street. Alex watched him doing so, noticed how his fists curled and relaxed. “Okay”, he sneered eventually. “Say I bite. What then?”

“You remain the face of this thing, but I will pitch in however you need me to. This city is too large for you- too open for me to show my face. But with you taking all the spotlight, I can make sure whatever needs to be done gets done without drawing too much attention.”

The courier scoffed. “Sure.” His eyes narrowed and a few sparks crawled along his shoulders. “You nearly mauled me to death, you forced me to play along. Why should I even trust you?”

“You can't. You _shouldn't_ trust me”, Alex replied with a cold smile, “And nothing I say will do anything. I can not be trusted and I have attacked you to silence you. Because you were going to tell Moya about me. I could not allow it. Though, believe me, if I wanted you dead, you would already be. But I have no intention to actually do so.” He cocked his head, watching the man closely. “All I always wanted was to be left alone- and that won't work if the city is going up in flames. Also, I doubt you are just going to stand by and watch it die, will you?”

The courier shook his head with a growl. “No.” He glared at Alex for a moment, before he huffed out and turned his head away. “Shit, I _know_ Moya's using me. I _know_ she wants me to get my hands on the Ray Sphere- but she holds all the cards. Only she can clear my name.”

“There is another way”, Alex pointed out. “Blackmail might sound like a nasty word, but you can trust in her cowardice. If you threaten her to drag whatever she had done to cause this entire mess into the light, she will voluntarily give you up. The main problem is figuring out _what_ she had screwed up to use against her.”

“So? It won't be easy for me to get those answers.”

“No, but that's why I am there- I _can_ do this, I have my ways and a few contacts more than willing to break into DARPA's servers and get what I need. Moya won't suspect me if there is no reason to suspect me.”

“And what am I going to do?”

“You continue with what you are doing. Play along, act as if she's your boss- and try to get your hands on the Sphere and Kessler. You'll need both to prove your innocence to the world.” He snorted. “At the same time, I can not act in the open- taking down Kessler _has_ to be you; however, I can work from the dark. I can strike where you can't, and I can permanently remove the weapons out there from circulation.”

The younger snorted. “So I'm what? Diversion?”

“In a way, yes. I don't care about Kessler or Moya, or even the situation in Empire.” Actually, he did care about the situation in Empire. After all, Dana was here, and too stubborn to leave- which meant he was going to stay too. “You remain the face of this, and I will make sure you get your hands on Kessler and Moya, along with clearing your name.” He shifted his talons back into hands and shoved them into the pockets of his pants, watching the younger man.

“Sounds like I'm getting the short end of the deal”, the courier snorted.

“If you mean that you'll get fame as well as having to take the fall, then yes. But I offer you the possibility to increase your chance of getting through all of this.” He cut himself off, and pulled the phone from his Biomass. It was chiming.

“ _Cole, pick up”_ , the voice of Moya Jones growled. _“I swear, if you have put the phone away to talk with that fat roommate of yours I will nail your ass over my fireplace.”_

Alex snorted and glanced at the courier, who was making a 'gimme' motion, then clicked the reply button himself. “Calm down”, he told her instead, imitating MacGrath's voice perfectly. The courier stared at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. “It's a bit hard to answer when I'm hanging off a wall with both hands.”

“ _Don't get smart with me”_ , the woman growled.

“What do you want?”

“ _The location of the final substation has been uploaded to your GPS. Head over there as soon as you can.”_ She cut the connection. The Runner glanced at the phone before throwing it over to the courier. “That's your job”, he told him, his voice back in a low rumble that wouldn't be recorded by a phone. “Once you've made up your mind, we'll speak again.”

He turned and leapt off the roof, leaving the courier behind. He made his point, now all that was there to do was to wait.

* * *

 

An alliance.

With Alex Mercer. _The_ Alex Mercer. The Terrorist of Manhattan.

Cole couldn't believe he was even _entertaining_ the idea. Alone the notion of working with that guy made every alarm bell shriek in his head. Hell, this idea was painfully clear in his head, even though confusion and panic was trying to override them. His brain felt like a mess, especially since he couldn't sleep again, but he was still lucid enough to _know_ that he really shouldn't agree to this. Mercer was dangerous, a loose cannon.

And even more so, what he just displayed had been three different kinds of wrong. At least.

The way he just casually snatched his phone from _across_ the roof, the way his arms simply twisted and shivered as they turned into those lethal claws, the way he lied to Moya, using _his_ voice, no less- it was as if that guy was trying to be as much of an asshole as somehow possible. Not only that, but he was also incredibly disturbing. Cole had watched him place his phone into his right pocket, then retrieved it from the _left_. It was his phone, no doubt, but he couldn't help but wonder how in the blazes he managed it to cut their conversation off from Moya by just placing it into his pockets.

Questions aside, however, what he said made sense. Empire was too much for a single guy, and the gangs would only become more dangerous. He had already trouble with a single Reaper conduit, and he just _knew_ that the guys in the other districts would be even worse. Working with somebody who could easily swallow up whatever damage came his way would be the smart choice. He just wasn't sure whether he could _trust_ him.

Not any more than Moya, at any rate.  
Cole scowled. Moya. She neglected to tell him she was DARPA, she used him to get to the Ray Sphere. He would play along for now though. However, once he found it, he would blow it up. Make sure nobody gets to use it.

Kessler, Moya and Mercer thought they were in control. But they weren't. Cole scowled deep. He would not let them use him like a cheap tool, then throw him away. He would not allow this- if they attempted to harm him, he would harm them right back.

He was through playing nice.

Cole would make them regret screwing with him. He would defeat anybody who thought that they could take any control away from him. He would show them.

But for that, he needed juice. And more powers. He needed to find the substation.

The courier scoffed and swung himself off the roof to head to the area marked on his GPS: The Western shore near Fisherman's Wharf.

He started jogging down the street to reach the train tracks, then climbed upwards to grind along the rails. He heard a few shouts from the people below as he zipped past them, electricity arching up behind him. He did not care for them too much. He helped those in the clinics to reduce the amount of supplies needed and to show Trish he wasn't going to abuse his powers. Deep down, he was a good guy, but that good guy was currently burried under a mountain of irritation.

He ground his teeth together when he entered the powerless area, his vision blurring. His brain pounded against his skull again, though he felt it wasn't as worse as it had been before. Either it was because this area was smaller than the others, or maybe because the remaining districts had juice, or maybe he got more resistant towards the lack of electricity.

Whatever it was, it made the dull throbbing a bit more bearable, but it still worsened his mood. He wasted no time to hop off the train tracks and find the manhole. He easily wrenched it open and dropped in, nose scrunching up almost immediately at the smell of sewage.

He tapped his phone. “I'm down in the sewers, Moya.”

“ _Good”_ , the woman replied. _“I also got some intel for you.”_ Cole perked up his ears, listening. Even if she was telling half-truths and lies, it could be helpful to figure out the truth. _“The leader of the Reapers is a woman named Sasha. No last name.”_ Huh. Sasha didn't sound too threatening. Though, he guessed, not every bad guy had a speaking name like _Victor van Doom_.

Moya made a clicking sound with her tongue. _“Here's something juicy”_ , she explained. _“Until a few months ago, Sasha was a high-ranking member of the First Sons. Spearheaded a lot of research.”_

Cole paused, taking in the new information. “You think she knows where John is?”

“ _There's no way of knowing”_ , Moya claimed. _“But even if she doesn't, you have to take her out. It's the only way we'll be able to get a handle on the plague. I'll let you know when I've locked down her location.”_ She cut the connection.

Cole frowned as he started moving, carefully balancing across the pipes suspended from the ceilings and climbing along the large tanks on either side (what _was_ it with this place and no way to _walk_ there normally?!).

Moya was right- they had to take that woman down to stop the Reapers. She used to be a scientist...interesting. The tar was obviously nothing natural, and it induced hallucinations. So it was possible this Sasha cooked the stuff up. If they got to her, then maybe they could stop the spread of the tar.

However...DARPA was probably very interested in getting their grubby fingers on a weapon that could be introduced via the water supplies. And if Sasha was the only one able to produce the stuff...he couldn't risk them getting their hands on her.

He wouldn't let her go free, however. She was responsible for the Reapers and a lot of people getting sick and die- Hell, it was _her_ damn fault they had this frickin' lockdown on the city. No. He _had_ to kill her and destroy whatever he could find of her work. Was the only way to make sure.

His lips twitched down into a scowl. Killing the Reapers was one thing- they fought him and he fought back. He defended himself. It was more or less the heat of the moment- but now, thinking- no- _planning_ to murder somebody in cold blood sat very wrong with him.

A massive crane came into view, sitting silently like a very big animal. Cole looked around. No other way around this one, however, he noticed the operating console on his left.

He zapped it to charge it up and the crane started moving with a metallic shriek. The courier leapt upwards and grabbed the beam, dragging himself on top of it. From there, he could see the faint glow of the transformer station. Cole hopped off the crane and latched onto one of the vertical pipes, swinging from one to another to reach the massive piece of machine.

He _had_ to be stronger. And re-establishing the circuits, while being painful, did increase his powers. He jumped up and latched on the transformers, feeling every cell in his body fry with the energy slamming through him. He ground his teeth together to ruthlessly smother the pained groan that threatened to escape his throat, instead trying to focus on the sensation of the electricity racing through him.

It felt good. Painful, yes, but also very stimulating.

He let go, dropping back to the ground in a crouch. Energy was surging all around him, snapping out of his body and mingling with the wordless roar of the transformer. He grunted and got back to his feet, brushing off his hands. He looked around to find the way, then started moving again. He did managed to cross another crane, then hopped to the side and lunge from pipe to pipe to reach another maintenance hatch. As he made his way through the sewers, his radar sense suddenly blared in alarm and he quickly ducked behind cover.

He heard the snarls of Reapers, and carefully peeked up, narrowing his eyes. He could see them in the dark. Faintly. He did figure out they were hiding behind cover as well.

 _Wish I could see them more clearly._ He narrowed his eyes some more, hoping to get a good shot at them. His eyeballs suddenly started to pound against his eye sockets, making him squeeze his fists into them to make them stop hurting. It took a moment to settle down, before he tried looking again. Nothing.

He blinked, then turned his attention back towards the Reapers that had, thankfully, not noticed him. He tried to focus again, and his eyeballs started to strain again.

Time seemed to slow down before him, and his focus literally zoomed onto the closest Reaper. Cole stared in surprise, then slowly lifted his hand to line up with the guy. The lightning bolt he shot was far from the wide-spread arch of electricity he usually shot- this one was thinner, went in a straight line- and was more concentrated.

The blow smashed right through the guy's shield and knocked him off his feet, startling his buddies. Cole blinked and his vision returned to normal, then tried it again with the other guys.

Once they all went down, the courier slowly got to his feet, blinking in bewilderment.

He just got a sniper attack.

 _Awesome_.

He continued his way, utilizing the sniper shot and his radar senses to take out the Reapers that thought they could hide. His head threatened to split open from the continued usage, but if it wasn't just plain _awesome_!

He quickly figured out that, if he aimed at their heads, they went down at the first hit, saving him both time and energy needed to utilize the concentrated blast. Which was pretty useful, though he was aware in the heat of combat he shouldn't even bother with it.

Eventually, he made his way to the substation, cursing the architects of this sewer to have created such a death-trap that required near-inhuman parkour abilities to navigate. _Who the Hell's supposed to work down here? Spider-Man?!_

He charged the substation up and grinned when he heard the hum of electricity surging through it- only for his grin to slip off his face when he realized that he had to get _back_.

Moya was definitely going to get a thank-you-bomb. Maybe one of Zeke's exploding batteries.

* * *

 

Cole swore profoundly as he finally clambered up to the street level. The sewage still stung in his nostrils, his arms were burning from the constant hanging on the cranes, and his head hurt from the excessive use of his radar-and sniper abilities. He really just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. The sun was just setting, so maybe it was a good time to get home.

His phone rang, earning a poorly-contained swear. If that was Moya...

“ _Cole, you there?”_

The courier inhaled sharply and swallowed whatever he was going to say. This was _not_ Moya. This was Trish. And she was calling him out of her own. His mouth dropped open.

“Trish?”

“ _A plane just dropped a crate of medical supplies”_ , she told him with an urgent tone in her voice. _“Someone needs to protect it from the Reapers.”_

“And you-” He swallowed. “You want _me_ to do it?” His heart skipped a beat or two, and his mood instantly skyrocketed.

Trish made that little snort/chuckle combination that he so loved. _“You are the only one with super powers”_ , she reminded him. _“We'll meet over there.”_

She ended the call and Cole started hurrying down the street. He had no idea where exactly that drop was supposed to be, but it had to be around here somewhere. Planes usually didn't head any deeper into the city to drop their cargo anymore.

He saw the parachute hang from an industrial crane at Fisherman's Wharf, blowing in the breeze from the bay. He also saw the edge of a red hoodie, and lunged towards it, tackling two Reapers that had already approached the cargo crate. He dispatched them and glanced around, taking in the situation.

He frowned when he realized it was not the best position: The crate stood in an open storage area for ocean freight containers, with three sides approachable. Meaning, Reapers could come from nearly every direction. Snarls echoed across the empty lot. Cole's frown deepened as he planted both feet in front of the crate and tensed his muscles. He was not going to let these guys any closer to grab the crate.

Heh. As the old man said: You shall not pass!

The first Reapers that came around the freight containers were met with a face full of lightning bolts before they could even react. But even the following guys didn't last too long. Cole lowered his hand, eyebrow arched.

His powers had vastly increased, up to the point that simple lightning bolts barely tapped into his energy resources. If at all. _Sweet_.

A large group came rushing towards him, hiding behind the chain-link fences to avoid his lightning bolts. Whatever. Cole hauled his arm back and created his grenades, then chucked them over the fence and into the guys' direction, frying them. More Reapers swarmed towards him, so he whirled around and took them out instantly. His senses cried out in alarm, giving him just enough time to flop flat to the ground to avoid a barrage of high-speed bullets digging up the asphalt. His eyes narrowed on the guy standing on top of a building, swinging a massive gun towards him.

Cole froze dumbfounded. _Was that a Minigun?!_

More Reapers snarled from the dark alleys on either side. Cole scowled and focused on the Minigun-wielding guy, downing him with a precision shot. He jumped back to his feet once the threat was gone, then whipped around to face the closest group. His eyes narrowed and lightning snapped out of his arms. “Yeah”, he growled. “Bring it on!”

Two groups of Reapers were upon him in that moment. Cole flung his arms out to smack them aside, but that only took out a part of them.

Plus his phone rang.

“ _Hey man, you got a sec?”_ , Zeke's voice asked. Cole didn't reply, but rather focused on the next three guys to fry them. _“Been kickin' an idea around and I want to talk to you about it”_ , his friend continued, obviously oblivious to the startled and pained snarls and the cracks of rifles and thunder strikes.

“Kinda got my hands full at the moment!” Cole snapped, grabbing two Reapers and slamming them into a freight container to knock them out. “Reapers are all over me!” He shouted, ducking under a rifle-butt that came into his direction, before he grabbed the guy and fried him.

“ _Those idiots aren't going anywhere”_ , Zeke claimed. Huh. Really? Because right now it looked like they were all going into Cole's direction. With all kinds of weapons. He even spied a few of those suicide bombers, and quickly blasted them to make them blow up before they would get any closer. He did catch a few bullets into the chest for his troubles, and instantly unleashed more lightning to zap the guys closest to him. _“Besides, this is important”_

“Zeke!” Cole shouted, grabbing a guy to use as shield against the others.

“ _Listen man- you know how you use that blast move to throw a guy into the air, and then shoot him while he's floatin' around? We need to name those moves, man!”_

Cole gaped. Really? He was going about to _name_ his moves? This wasn't one of his Japanese cartoons, damnit. He didn't need to name his attacks. It wasn't like he was going to shout them at his foes.

“Now's not really the time!” He snapped, dropping his meat shield to throw a series of grenades at the approaching foes.

“ _I think we should call it the Crippler”_ , Zeke continued in all seriousness, as if he didn't realize his best friend was just fighting for his _life_ here. _“You know, 'cause no-one's comin' back from that one. We can plaster it all over some T-shirts, make some serious cashola. Think about it. You're the muscles, I'm the brains.”_

“Zeke- I'm a little busy at the moment!” Cole all but yelled as his friend ended the call, jumping over the shockwave of a Reaper conduit. He grabbed the man and send several thousand volts through his skull to drop him.

It took a while until he stopped, panting and looking around. He literally stood knee-deep in dead or unconscious Reapers. His head was still hurting, and he just _knew_ that there were more coming, but his body was aching all over, his clothes had more bullet holes than they could really need and his flesh was torn. He grunted and headed over to a fuse box at the wall, draining it to heal right up. But the sheer amount of damage he accumulated made him waste more time than he really wanted, and another group of Reapers came rushing around the corner.

He groaned in defeat. Where the heck did these guys come from anyways? _Well, at any rate now I know where they've been the whole day. Waiting to screw me up here._

The group of Reapers snarled and came rushing at him, though there was still enough space between them to excuse waiting and draining more energy to heal.

The Reapers didn't get any further, though. Something...black seized all six of them, wrapped around their bodies securely, before they were yanked back and out of sight. Cole froze as their startled snarls were cut off with a series of pained shrieks and the tearing of flesh. Then there was silence.

Seconds before Mercer stepped into view, rolling his shoulders. He was back in hoodie and jacket, as he strolled casually towards him. The set of _tentacles_ growing from his shoulders instead of arms were new, and they were writhing in excitement, snaking through the air before settling back into three-fingered hands.

The snarl of more Reapers coming from the opposite side of the alley drew both their attentions, and Cole swore at the sight of more guys approaching. Mercer was faster than him, leaping off the floor to cross the distance in a heartbeat, then slamming into the group. Three Reapers were turned to fine mist, while the others shook from the force of the impact.

His arms unraveled in that moment, spreading into every direction like a demented spider web that captured the junkies more than easily. Mercer's shoulders twitched- and the men were just torn to pieces in a shower of blood and gore. Cole bit back a curse at the sight, as Mercer whirled around and slammed the tentacles down, tearing groves into the ground to stop another group of Reapers.

At the next moment, another bunch rushed at them from the other side, Cole whipped into their direction and fired several lightning bolts to down them, listening to the sound of something shift. When he turned back around, the bodies and the blood were gone, while tentacles crawled across the other guy's form, concentrating in his arms to twist them back into normal human limbs.

“I had everything under control”, Cole hissed, “No need to _splatter_ them.”

“I wanted to have a bit of fun too”, the other replied in a tone others talked about the weather. “If you kill them fast and without mercy, then the others hopefully will get the message and stop this entire bullshit.”

Cole scoffed in reply, kicking a semi-conscious Reaper to knock him out. “That's it?”

“Not really”, Mercer said, nodding his head over his shoulder. A turret truck pulled in from the street, heading towards them.

The courier groaned. “Not one of them.”

Mercer inclined his head. “Leave that truck to me”, he ordered shortly. Cole couldn't even answer when the guy just lunged at the truck, hard enough to completely cave in the front and kill the engine. He smashed his fist through the window, grabbed the driver and just yanked him out through the reinforced glass to throw him like a ragdoll across the lot and shatter his remains against one of the buildings. The gunner he crushed simply when he vaulted over the driver's cabin, then just tore the mounted turret off and dropped it to the street like trash.

A second and third truck were just easing into the courtyard, but the terrorist was moving already. Lunging across the distance easily, he tackled the second one off course hard enough to force it into the third one. There was a hollow screech of metal when both collided and stopped stuttering.

Cole watched in surprise how Mercer then simply let them to catapult himself off the floor and rocketeted straight upwards, _far_ higher than even the buildings around were- before he came back down, slamming bodily into the truck bed of the third truck like a missile and completely eradicating both trucks with the sheer force alone. The entire wharf shook from the impact, and shards of glass, tires and bits of metal were flung away from the fresh crater. Moments later, the guy simply got up and proceeded with dusting himself off like it was _nothing_. Bastard wasn't even winded.

Cole opened and closed his mouth a few times, working his tongue until he managed to speak. “Frickin' show-off”, he grumbled under his breath. Mercer smirked.

“Cole!” The courier turned around, watching how Trish, another doctor and two of the militia approached the scene. Trish paused, glancing at the wrecked trucks and the Reapers around him in awe. She waved her hands through the air before she found her words. “Wow, Cole. That was... _savage_ ” Cole's head snapped around to where the other had been. No surprise there, he was gone.

Which left him alone. He sighed in defeat. “Yeah. Uh, had to act up a bit to make those idiots back off.” There was a short pause in which the men tore their gazes away from the destruction, when Cole continued. “Uh- don't worry. It were just Reapers and it was to defend my life. I'm not going to play God or anything.” He turned his attention to the three men currently fussing over the crate. “You need any help moving that stuff?”

Trish shook her head and there was a small smile on her face. At that moment, Cole decided that this was the look he liked best about her. “We got it”, she exclaimed. “Thanks for your help.”

His eyes sparkled slightly. “This means we're talking again?”

Trish chuckled. “It does.”

 _Thank you, God_.

Cole lunged over and hugged Trish, completely ignoring her protesting squeak, and proceeded with simply pressing his lips against her cheek. At that moment, he really didn't care about anybody else. Trish was back with him and that was all he needed.

Of course, Moya then shattered the moment.

“ _Break it up”_ , her cold voice ordered, making both of them flinch back startled. _“You have no time for rest, Cole.”_

Cole exhaled with a snarl and let go of Trish, mashing his reply button. “Moya. What the Hell do you want now?!”

“ _Well, if there isn't somebody angry”_ , The DARPA agent exclaimed smoothly. _“Get your ass up. I pinned Sasha's location.”_

Cole frowned unhappily. Sasha was the Reaper's leader- and it would be best to take her out sooner than later. And Moya knew that. So he exhaled slowly, trying to get his urge to throttle her under control. “Where?”

He could almost hear her smirk. _“She's operating out of Jefferson Tunnel. Head to the location marked on your GPS and I'll fill you in when you get there.”_ She cut the connection. Cole frowned at his phone.

“Bitch.”

Trish arched her brow. “Boss?”

“Yeah”, he sighed. “She made me crawl through the sewers to fix the electricity in Empire, she threw me face-first into a group of Reapers, and she keeps bossing me around.” He glanced at his girlfriend. “But what can I do? She told me to do this for her, and in return she'll clear my name through all official channels.”

“Who's Sasha?”

“The leader of the Reapers”, Cole shook his head. “Listen- I have to stop her, make sure she doesn't hurt any more people.”

Trish nodded. “Well, go get her, tiger.”

Cole paused. “What about you?”

She smiled. “I'm beat. We'll just bring those supplies to the clinics, then I'll turn in for the night.”

“See you tomorrow then?”

“Most likely. If your boss lady allows you to actually have some fun.”

 

 


	12. Dinner with Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the first Boss Fight in this story. Buckle up and hold on to those snacks.

**Dinner with Sasha**

 

Jefferson Tunnel, huh? Cole had already wondered what the heck was up with all the barbed wire and barricades, though he had assumed that this was the work of the Feds to prevent the people from crossing into the other districts for easy control. Though, apparently, it was Reaper territory.

He underestimated those guys. He thought they were rabid animals, but they were incredibly cunning, able to adapt to his tactics without wasting too much time. So he didn't try anything stupid and played it safe when he approached the Jefferson. He was crouched on the rooftop across from it, eyes narrowing on the Reapers hidden in the stronghold.

He tapped his phone, shivering slightly from the feeling of dread running down his back. “Alright Moya. I'm across from the Jefferson Tunnel.” He frowned. “Entrance looks blocked, though.”

“ _Hm. Guess you'll have to figure out a way to get down there. Your best bet is to head into the compound across the street and look for a way to open the gate.”_

“Rock and Roll”, Cole replied. Moya had cut the connection, but was still listening. The courier turned his head slightly to glance over his shoulder towards the nightmare towering just behind him.

“You got that?” He mouthed, unwilling to pick up his volume.

Mercer nodded, glancing at the compound across from them. “I can easily break open the gate”, he mentioned, “Though...” He trailed off. “It would be _loud_ , and obvious- The gate has to be operated from somewhere.” He pointed at the tower-like structure jutting out from the constructions just above the tunnel. “I think over there, at the end of the compound. Offers adequate protection, while allowing a good overview over who might want to get in.”

“That means through the entire compound”, Cole furrowed his brows. “Have to do that the hard way, then?”

Mercer shrugged. “It won't be as much of being 'hard'. Only lengthy.” His arms shivered and turned back into his giant claws. “Just let me to the front, and it will be short and easy.”

Cole scoffed in reply. Short and easy meant that guy was going to massacre the Reapers. And while he held no love for them either, Mercer's total lack of inhibition worried him. Any guy who thought that _complete dismemberment_ was a good solution to problems was too untrustworthy.

He didn't say anything though and simply jumped off the roof, hitting the street below. Mercer followed close-by, merely stepped off the building to hit the street with a crack. Cole swore slightly under his breath, stumbling from the shockwave of the impact, before he righted himself. He didn't think that guy was even _aware_ of the random destruction he caused just by moving about. Sometimes he wondered how oblivious people had to be to not realize what was going on.

At the upper corner of the massive rolling gate was a box with a red light. Cole furrowed his brows, and summoned a lightning bolt in his hand to shoot it and overload it so the obstacle would open.

Mercer stopped him though. “A moment”, he muttered, attention on the gate. His eyes flashed golden, then his brows drew together. “There is somebody maybe ten yards away from the door. There is something hot on him.”

“Hot?” Cole frowned. “How do you-”

“Infrared vision”, Mercer replied. “Allows me to see hot spots and cold areas- and that guy over there has two. Like torches?”

It clicked and the younger man scowled. “Suicide bomber. Use torches to blow up dynamite strapped to their chests.”

Mercer arched his eyebrow. “What a waste of soldiers.” He shook his head. “I stop him, I'm faster than you are.”

Hey, if that guy wanted to get his face blown up, not Cole's problem. He just shrugged and lifted his hand to zap the red-glowing circuit above them. The gate creaked open, followed by the wild screech/snarl of the suicide Reaper. Mercer moved, rushing inside before Cole could even change his position. He did manage to twist his body enough to watch him bodily tackle the guy before he even managed to blow himself up, and smashed him into the opposite wall with incredible force. The courier followed only a moment later, just in time to witness the terrorist turn back around and dust off his talons like it was nothing.

Leaving a flattened Reaper behind.

Mercer rolled his shoulder, then motioned for a rickety ladder against the wall. “Let's continue then- though you'd better be careful, there are several Reapers and at least two turret guns I can see.”

Seeing as he had correctly identified the Suicide Reaper before, Cole had no reason not to believe the claim, though as the old saying went: 'Trust nobody but yourself'. He sent out a radar pulse on his own, and confirmed the sightings.

Just that he also scanned Mercer in the process, startled to realize that this man was vastly  _different_ to what he could see in the Reapers. No central nervous system, obviously no internal organs, asides from what could be a pair of lungs- not  _human_ in any sense of the word.  _Superpowers_ he claimed. Superpowers that were similar to Cole's.

Yeah, but Cole didn't turn into a baleful asshole that could transform limbs into over-sized weapons, and he was certain he was a lot more human than the other. Though it worried him. If he had gained his powers during Manhattan- nearly three years prior- then he obviously did have a lot time to change. He wondered whether before long he too would become an inhuman asshole.

One that  _craved_ bloodshed. Mercer was already mounting the low wall, using his talons to dig them into the mortar and pull himself up easily. Cole lacked any handholds, so he just latched onto the ladder and climbed upwards, though he stopped shortly below the edge and carefully peeked over it. The turrets stood on either side of the area- but he could see the Reapers operating them peek through the narrow viewing slot.

Good enough. He focused on the one to his right, and zapped him right into the head with his precision shot, then before any of the other Reapers could react, he nailed the other.

“Clear!” He snapped, and Mercer lunged over the edge, claws blazing. The bullets that impacted into his chest didn't even slow him down, neither did the grenades or missiles two of them shot. Cole could only watch in morbid amazement how the terrorist tore through the small group of Reapers like a whirlwind made of knifes. It was startlingly how _easy_ the guy ripped grown men apart, claws slicing through flesh, bone and steel like through wet tissue, leaving behind clean cuts and lots of blood. “Tower”, he ground out while tearing another Reaper in half. Cole jumped and turned his attention to the watchtower, finding another Reaper up there. He lunged across the field and scaled the obstacle, pouncing at the startled guard.

He knocked him out easily enough, before turning his attention back downwards- and froze.

The area was clean. Like nothing ever happened before.

All of the dead Reapers were gone, and there wasn't a speck of blood left anywhere. Mercer didn't seem to realize that things were off and merely nodded towards the other side of the compound where some Reapers were still milling about, even as he proceeded to tear the remaining turrets apart.

Cole exhaled and jumped down into the next group, taking them out with a thunder shock. He threw his body to the side to avoid being shot at from that turret, before he chucked a grenade at the thing, blowing it and the Reaper operating it up. Mercer soared past him with one leg outstretched, taking down another turret with a single violent kick.

The younger swallowed nervously, because he had to realize that there was no chance to take this guy down. He was incredibly strong, fast, resilient and had no troubles using whatever he could do in the most lethal ways possible. He was only alive because that guy had really been pulling his punches back on that building. It pissed him off, but also eased his mind a little. He really didn't want to get torn apart by those claws. Not when Trish would be left with nobody keeping her safe.

Somebody was firing from a watch tower, and Cole whirled around to take that bastard down. However, just as he reached the top of the tower, his brain lurched painfully, and he dropped onto one knee with an agonized grunt, the startled guy momentarily forgotten.

“ _Sweet, delicious Cole”_ , the voice purred. Sasha, most likely. Cole squirmed, trying to shut her out. _“Coming home at last. I've been waiting for you. Longing for you. You're coming to me so we can stop all that try to control us.”_ He ground his teeth together, hand snapping up to send a powerful lightning bolt to down the Reaper that was trying to shoot him. He hadn't been doused with that tar stuff within the last twenty-four hours, so _why_ was he still hearing her voice? His vision turned blurry, as he leaned to the side with a groan. “Just shut up”, he ground out, trying to stabilize his balance. He still had to get the tunnel open, he couldn't be stopped here. So he forced himself to move, jumping from the watchtower into a fenced-off area to get to a control panel at the other side.

His head felt like somebody was taking a jackhammer to it, but the feeling luckily faded quickly into a throbbing echo when he was trying to focus on something else. He wasn't too keen to experience that again, though he was afraid it would happen soon enough.

There was a hot hand on his shoulder, making him gasp startled. He flinched back, whirling around- to see Mercer stand there with furrowed brows, a recently acquired rifle hanging from his shoulder. “Everything alright?” He rumbled, and it did actually sound  _worried_ . If you squinted hard enough. With a concussion.

“Leave me”, Cole snapped, yanking the control lever down to open the main gate. “Everything's just _peachy_.”

“It's not”, the terrorist noticed with a frown. “You are still under the influence of that tar, aren't you?”

“And if I was?” Cole bit out. At the moment, he really didn't care if Moya thought he was crazy from talking with somebody she couldn't hear. Or maybe she'll get off her ass and come over here, meet Mercer. They could deal it out then themselves, that way Cole would have to deal with one annoying guy less.

“It could be dangerous, as the stuff doesn't seem to expire after wearing off initially. What about the civilians that have gotten into contact with it?” He furrowed his brows, looking actually _thoughtful_. “And you're always demanding someone to 'get out', does that mean you're hearing voices? How many?” He seemed genuinely interested.

Cole grunted, slightly confused that he had been found out so fast. “Just one”, he grumbled unhappily. “Guess it's Sasha.”

The terrorist furrowed his brows. “Sasha...the leader of the Reapers?” He paused for a moment. “That would explain some things...”

“What things?” The younger demanded to know.

“Reapers”, Mercer explained. “The way they act. They always seem to know how to deal with either of us, trying to adapt to our tactics, though I am certain neither of us leaves any _alive_ to tell the others.”

Cole arched his brows. Yeah, that was...true. Whenever he managed to beat those guys back, they came at him the next time trying to beat him in different ways, sometimes even using his weaknesses against him.

“What do you think?” He asked carefully, now mindful to keep his voice low.

“The tar”, Mercer replied. “It's not only causes hallucinations and drives people mad- it seems to create a some sort of _link_. A link between the Reapers...and Sasha, most likely, something she obviously employs to take control over the single individuals. A _Hive Mind_ , if you want to put it that way.”

Cole looked up in surprise. “Like ants?”

“On a telepathic scale. Yes.” He pointed at him. “That's why you can hear her voice. She's linked herself to you. Tries to take control over you.”

“Wonderful”, Cole scowled. “Another reason to take her down.” 

Mercer paused and flicked his rifle downwards, shooting at the three Reapers that just came out of the Jefferson Tunnel. “Then we better get started. The sooner she's out of your brain, the less likely it is she will gain control.”

Cole sighed angrily at both- the fact he was having the Reaper's leader inside the head and that this bastard here was ordering him about. Unfortunately, he couldn't take out his irritation on Sasha (yet) or Mercer (probably never), so he settled for the next best opinion: He jumped off the watchtower and dropped to the ground, lightning sparking all across him to fry the Reapers that were still hiding in the tunnel.

“ _I can feel the love inside you. Just waiting to be coaxed out”_ , Sasha whispered, making him jerk back with a swear. Well, he wouldn't call the feeling that rushed through him 'love', but whatever floated that woman's boat. She didn't seem to be able to get her thoughts together anyways. _“We're going to have such fun.”_ Oh yeah. Let's see how much 'fun' she had when he fried the last brain cells she had. Cole scowled and forced himself to move forwards. The Jefferson tunnel was cluttered with empty cars. Small cars, big cars, buses, trucks...all kinds of vehicles. Cole paused, frowning. He had heard rumors of people disappearing just after the barricades went up. He glanced at a car, taking notice of the state it was in. There was dust everywhere, but the doors had been torn open- the handles had been broken off actually.

His stomach twisted, because he just  _knew_ that the Reapers had taken everyone in here. All of them. Hundreds of people.

What for?

Mercer appeared besides him, blue eyes moving along the rows of cars in a slow, methodical manner. He too had come to the same conclusion, apparently. Only...There was something about his expression that told Cole he knew more than he let on.

The younger flinched when his brain lurched again and his vision dipped back into smudged red colors. He had to finish this quick, before Sasha got too much control over him. Something whistled through the air, and the courier was bodily pushed aside by the other man. Seconds later something exploded with a loud crack, making his ears ring. But the fog lifted enough so he could take in the situation. Mercer had gone between him and the Reapers, had shielded him with the same giant blade he used as a makeshift lightning rod just a few days before.

Cole blinked, then immediately ducked underneath the cover to zap a Reaper wielding a grenade launcher before the guy even figured the situation out. More Reapers came at them, but Cole easily took them out without the other man needing to step in. Not that he even _attempted_ \- he was contend with acting as meat shield.

“Getting sick of you guys”, the courier grumbled as he chucked an electric grenade at them, watching how it went up in a glorious shower of sparks, scattering the men into every direction and buying him some breathing room.

“Heads up”, Mercer remarked, moving the blade in front of the courier again to stop several high-speed bullets. Cole responded as soon the shooting tapered off by firing several lightning bolts at the attackers, frying them. Then he doubled over, panting. It looked like he had used up too much juice- and that meant he needed to charge up before he could continue.

Mercer glanced at him. “There's a fuse box over there”, he said, thrusting his chin into the mentioned direction. More Reapers appeared in that moment, snarling. “I got this. You just charge up.”

Cole was about to reply when his voice caught in his throat. He watched, in fascination, how the massive blade melted away and turned into that braided tentacle with gleaming claws at the end. The terrorist pulled the tentacle back, then launched it to the front, shifting his center of balance while at it. The tentacle crossed the distance within the blink of an eye, slicing through a Heavy Reaper with no trouble. The others snarled and dove to either side, behind the abandoned vehicles. Mercer snorted and flexed his arm, flicking the claw from one side to the other. It cut through the metal of the cars with no great trouble. Gas tanks spilled open from the violent blow and the friction of the metal nails was enough to ignite some of it.

The explosion shook the entire tunnel, making the concrete groan overhead.

Cole inhaled once, snapped his jaw shut to smother the need to say  _something_ , before he finally went over to the fuse box to drain it. He had been hungry, tired and in pain before, but all of this faded quickly as he refilled his energy reserves. Mercer was watching him like a hawk the entire time, but said nothing.

Only when he felt sufficiently alright again, they continued moving, with the terrorist easily pushing the burning wreckages aside as if it didn't weigh more than cardboard boxes and weren't on fire at all.

“ _What's this?!”_ Sasha's voice suddenly shrieked in panic. _“No! That's not possible! Not the creature!”_

Cole cringed back again.  _“It followed you! Cole! It will devour you!”_

“What creature?” He ground out, trying to keep his balance as he stumbled to the front.

“ _Kill it!”_ She screeched. Cole collapsed to one knee, groaning in pain at the volume of her voice.

He became just vaguely aware of the Reaper conduits approaching them, but his bones didn't respond to him, leaving him nearly defenseless. But Mercer stepped in at that moment, whip lashing out to shred the Reapers to pieces. Sasha shrieked in terror inside Cole's head, making him wince in pain.

“Get yourself together, MacGrath!”, Mercer barked, pulling him to his feet. “Don't let her get to you!”

Cole ground his teeth together, yanked his arm away and focused on the snarls from further down the tunnel. He unleashed his power in a frightening wave of lightning bolts that slammed into the walls and fried whoever was anywhere within a fifty-foot-radius. Mercer uttered a single, startled yelp once, bringing a small grin to his face.  _Sorry, not sorry._

He kept the discharge going until he had no energy reserves left and doubled over, exhausted but proud of himself. The attack not only defeated every single Reaper around them, but also blasted Sasha's voice right out of his skull. There was a heavy thud next to him, followed by a disgruntled growl. The courier tilted his head slightly, glancing at the nightmarish armored shape Mercer had taken to fend the lightning blast off. “Heh”, he grinned. “I'm not even sorry.”

The featureless face plate 'stared' at him for a moment, before the armor receded and left Mercer with an exasperated expression. Instead of saying anything, he just shook his head and walked past him. Cole exhaled and straightened his back, looking around for the closest source of electricity. He found another fuse box and drained it, filling up his reserves just as he heard the hollow shriek of metal. He turned around, watching how a torn-out fence came flying past him.

“MacGrath. Look at this”, Mercer rumbled, his voice like a distant thunderstorm. He was pissed off, that much was obvious, though _why_ Cole only realized once he stepped closer and stared at the sight in front of him.

There were rows of cages along the walls, with massive machines installed above them. Cole saw people sitting inside the cages, most begging and weeping, slapping weakly against the the metal bars to try and break free. All of them were coughing, some retching, and at least three were constantly throwing up.

And the machines above them were constantly spraying black mist over the cages. _Black Tar._

Mercer made a disgruntled noise. “So this is how they make Reapers”, he growled, tentacles rushing over his frame in an agitated manner. Cole whipped around, eyes wide.

“What?!”

Mercer frowned at him. “This is where Reapers are from”, he explained. “The black tar- short contact with it causes madness and hallucinations. But longer contact...”

Cole's stomach dropped. Telepathy, madness, Hive Mind, Reapers abducting people, Reapers coming out of nowhere...all of it suddenly made sense. Terrible sense- The Reapers  _were_ the civilians. They were the people they had taken. Now they were twisted, corrupted, driven mad through the black tar, puppets bend to Sasha's will. And she used them as she desired, then threw them away on a whim.

The courier tried to catch his breath, get his brain working around the intense rage he felt for the Reaper's leader, when Mercer approached him and tapped the phone.

“Moya”, he grated, using Cole's voice once again, “I think I found where they're making the Reapers. Bunch of people down here, locked in cages. Machines spraying the black tar all over them.”

“ _Get them out of there”_ , Moya ordered, _“Then deal with Sasha.”_

“My pleasure”, Mercer replied. He switched the phone off and stared at the courier. “If you want to save these people, then hurry. The longer they stay in there, the worse they will be off.”

Cole snapped into action, hurrying to the front. He threw his arms up, throwing a shockwave into the machine hanging overhead to shatter it, before he started tearing into the cages. Mercer started doing the same on the row at the other side, ripping doors from hinges and dragging the people out of them. For some, he realized, all seemed lost already. They were lethargic, just lying in their prisons and staring blankly. No amount of coaxing seemed to help.

Everything came crashing down around him. Electricity started to snap around him, rising with his anger. Lightning smashed into the metal cages, and the lights overhead started to flicker.

“This is _sick_!” He barked enraged. “What was she thinking?!”

“Taking civilians and bending them to her will is not that new”, Mercer replied, shoving the last of the people outside. The group rushed away from them, back towards the Neon and away from this place. “Means you have as many disposable soldiers as you want- and hostages on top.”

“This is _sick_! _”_ , Cole snapped again, before he sat down abruptly, covering his face with his hands. “Until now- this _entire_ time, I have been _killing_ civilians!”

Mercer glanced at him. “Yes”, he said with no real emotion behind his voice. “Yes, you have. We both have.”

The courier clawed the sides of his skull. “I have killed so many- I murdered them all...but they were  _people_ . Just ordinary people!” He exhaled shakily. “I should have  _helped_ them. I should have!”

“No”, Mercer replied, startling Cole with the finality. “You couldn't have.” He sighed and waved his arm over to the few people that still sat in their cages. “Those people over there are dead already”, he explained.

“Why?” The courier demanded.

“The tar”, Mercer continued. “It destroys the nervous system. The brain.” _Prolonges exposure...corrodes the cerebral matter?_ He tapped the side of his hood. “The longer the contact with this stuff, the worse it is. And every Reaper I faced until now...” He shook his head. “Alzheimer in its last stages comes to mind”, he explained. “The both of us- we are probably the only ones immune to the corrosive effect of the tar.”

“Alzheimer?” Cole's eyes narrowed. “How the Hell are they still functioning then?!”

“The Hive Mind”, Mercer replied. “The telepathic link they share with Sasha. They are, to a certain degree, nothing more than an _extension_ of her mind. She is the one who controls them like puppets. What they do is what she _tells_ them to do. Maybe she's even steering them remotely.” His lips peeled away from his teeth in a snarl. “The same had happened in Manhattan. Almost exactly the same. And _millions_ died back then.”

Burning hot  _rage_ rose through Cole's chest as he slowly got up. “She will pay”, he hissed. “She will pay for what she had done.”

“ _You think I don't see you?”_ , Sasha hissed suddenly in his head, making him cringe back with a swear. _“You and the creature. I see it now. You think it will devour me too, Kessler!”_ The entire tunnel started shaking, tremors running from its depths, breaking the concrete and snapping steel. It was as if something large had awoken. And it was _angry_. Mercer snarled and motioned for him to follow. Cole didn't need to be told twice- his rage about Sasha made him move without taking notice of his blurry sight and throbbing head. He was just too pissed to react to it.

“ _Oh, you are a tricky bastard”_ , Sasha spat. _“Playing your games, thinking you're smarter than everyone else. You're going to pay. Oh God, yes! But first, your pet has to go!”_

The ground buckled and warped, seconds before massive fountains of red tar sprang forth from the street. Cole swore and backed off, trying to avoid it when high-voltage cables snapped and were torn upwards as well, setting the tar ablaze.

The two tried to dodge around the fountains, but just below their feet, the ground buckled once more. A huge spray of red tar broke through the street, hitting both square in the chest and throwing them back. Cole swore, trying to wipe it off, when Mercer suddenly gasped in pain and dropped to one knee. The courier whipped around, eyes widening in shock when he saw the red tar literally  _eating_ its way through the other man. Entire parts of him- his whole right arm, large pieces of his chest and even  _face_ \- were  _melting_ off.

Mercer groaned, entire body writhing, before he lurched to the front, parts of him simply sloughing off like wax.

“Holy shit!” Cole hissed, realizing that the guy was quite literally _dying_ in front of him- and more, _he too_ was coated in the stuff.

Frantically, he tried wiping it off, but somehow, it was only  _gross_ to him, not acidic as it was to Mercer. The terrorist made a strangled noise, then swiftly changed his unaffected hand into a claw, easily slicing off what looked deceased. Cole stared, in horror, as the guy proceeded with simply  _cutting off_ parts of his limbs and body, gouging out copious amounts of his own flesh and then simply stepped back to easily  _re-grew_ them in a matter of moments. His face settled first, turning back into unaffected skin, while his expression turned into a deep scowl. Cole was pretty sure his own was somewhere between 'What just happened' and 'Am I seriously seeing this'.

Mercer snorted, glaring at the red tar and the melted dead remains of his body. “What the fuck?!” He grated, and his voice was more hoarse than usual.

“What happened?!” Cole burst out, “Because this kind of stuff-” He cut himself off with a sharp hiss. Moya wasn't supposed to know, after all. That guy just casually _regenerated_ entire parts of his body- And _why_ didn't it have an effect on _him_?

“The tar”, Mercer grunted, forcing his body to settle down. “It's...like a strong germicide.” His eyes narrowed. “Like fluid and concentrated _BloodTox_.”

“English, please?!”

The terrorist snorted. “Sasha is a scientist. She found something that affects  _me_ . That keeps me away from her. Fucking bitch.” He snarled hatefully, then glanced at the courier. “I have no choice- I have to go back outside, look for another way in. I will hurry, but I fear killing her is your job, then.”

_Shit_ . “Why doesn't this stuff affect me?!”

“You are _human_ ”, Mercer grated, “I am _not_. You can do things _I can't_ , just as I can do things you cannot.” He thrust his head into the direction of the tar fountains. “You have to stop Sasha. If she is beaten, those fountains should stop and the Reapers will degrade into rabid animals, easy pickings.”

Kill Sasha and stop the Reapers, because Sasha was the literal brain in this. It shouldn't be too hard, right?

“I'll get her”, Cole eventually relented. “I'll make her pay for what she did.” He _had_ to stop her, had to make sure she wouldn't be able to spread her influence any further, had to make sure she wouldn't be able to corrupt Trish or Zeke. He had to stop her to end the plague that was causing the government to lock down the city.

So he turned and started to sprint towards the red tar. He threw his arms up in a feeble way to protect himself- and easily passed through it without any harm, like before. It had no effect on him whatsoever- how could it affect one conduit and not the other?

He was going to figure that one out later, he decided when he found a deep pit just to the front. He stopped for a moment to collect himself, then dropped down without hesitation.

* * *

 

Cole dropped three stories into the underground of the Jefferson tunnel, landing hard on a piece of collapsed street. Black tar was all around him, clogging up his sinuses with its stench. The courier scowled and jumped across the broken pieces to reach dry ground, then started to make his way deeper into the Reaper lair. He was utterly alone now, but he could hear the tar slosh over his head through the pipes suspended from the ceiling.

Wherever he was going, he was going towards the source of this stuff. And towards Sasha.

The narrow maintenance tunnel opened soon enough to a large room, a cistern, most likely. The ground was coated with knee-deep black tar, but there were parts of the ceiling that had dropped into the liquid, forming a sort of walkable ground in a circle around the center: A massive throne that jutted out of the middle with thick pipes and massive pumps attached to it.

And on that throne... _Sasha_ .

Cole narrowed his eyes on the woman. She noticed him too, because her head snapped up, and her eyes glowed.

“Darling, what took you so long?” She asked, and Cole stepped back, ducking slightly. “Was there traffic? I told you not to take the bridge, it is always backed up at night.”

He stared at her, his rage momentarily subsided out of pure confusion. Didn't she realize he had come here to beat her ass? Didn't she notice he wasn't here for smalltalk?

Obviously not, because Sasha inspected her fingernails, though in the half gloom of her lair it was hard to make out the details. However, Cole could see the hood on her head and the...valves sticking out of her back and shoulders that were attached to the machine. In that moment, Cole realized that the woman didn't just know how to produce the tar- the woman was the  _source_ of it.

She leaned to the front, and the tubes disconnected from her with a hiss. The massive pump overhead was pulled back into the ceiling, and the throne was lowered into the ground as Sasha stood up, seizing Cole up. “Get dressed”, the woman ordered, “We have dinner plans tonight.” She chuckled. “Of course I told you. Silly man.”

Cole's eyes narrowed. He had believed her to be a sly and dangerous woman, but she seemed to be clinically detached from everything around herself. “You gotta be kidding me.”

Sasha chuckled again, and simply vanished in a flurry of black tar. Cole flinched back, recognizing this as something similar as the Reaper conduits and Kessler employed to teleport around- but Sasha was nowhere to be seen. Nothing to be heard either, except for the bubble of the liquid on the floor.

He took a step to the front, glancing around and carefully sending out his radar pulse to find her. He took another step when he didn't, stopping right in front of the tar pool. And then Sasha suddenly lunged out of the tar like a viper, grabbing hold of the courier. Cole swore and tried to jerk back, but her grip was like steel. “Stop trying to confuse me!” She hissed, enraged all of a sudden, fingers grabbing a tight hold of him.

As close as she was now, he could see more details of her. Sasha was thin, painfully so with her ribs and hip bones sticking out in a ghastly way. Her skin was gray, her head shaved and her lips deep crimson. She had clawed fingers and completely red eyes, with pinprick-sized pupils. Various tubes jutted out of her shoulders and below her collar bones, and her hooded jacket was barely tied together in the front.

Other than that, she was nude.

Cole didn't know why this disturbed him the most, but that woman currently latching on him was  _naked_ from the chest down. More red tar coated her nether regions, but not enough to hide anything, because she was  _naked_ . And worse even- she was tightly pressed against him so he could actually  _feel_ her body shape. It was disturbing in all kinds of manner; so Cole squirmed, trying to shove her off with only little success.

She was incredibly  _strong._ And she started to overpower him to press her face closer to his. Her lips slid open, revealing metallic shining  _black_ teeth. Those teeth slowly parted and Sasha's tongue slipped out of her mouth, curling over her lips.

Or better,  _tongues_ . Cole made a strangled noise as four long  _tentacles_ whipped towards him, coiling through the air and ghosting across his face. He struggled against her hold, and managed to press one hand against her skull, trying to push her off. Or, at the very least, prevent her from  _kissing_ him. His electric powers didn't work, didn't work as the tar inhibited them, so he didn't have much choice but try to wrestle her off. Sasha pushed harder against him, trying to overwhelm the courier. Cole struggled back, eyes catching sight of the tubes on her shoulder.

Hopefully it would hurt to twist them, because he had no idea what else to do.

Sasha hissed, clawing at his arm as he fought to reach it over her shoulder. His teeth ground together as he roughly shoved her head away, then managed to seize one of the valves.

“Keep talking”, he snarled, and _yanked_ it out. Black tar sprayed from the wound like blood. Sasha shrieked in pain and let go of him, stumbling back. She doubled over for a second, before she hissed at him with her tongues snapping through the air, then she vanished inside the tar again. Cole dropped the valve and quickly jumped away from the tar and onto the collapsed parts of the ceiling to get away from the tar, all while hearing her malicious laughter that echoed through the cistern.

The tar was hurting his head, but the adrenaline coursing through him gave him the strength to power through. With her gone from his closer vicinity, he had his electricity back too. Just like the tar itself could inhibit his abilities, any direct contact with Sasha prevented him from zapping her. Great.

He saw something bubble at the other end of the room and shot several lightning bolts at it, just to see a massive red shockwave race towards him. He leapt up to avoid it.

“They're expecting us at seven”, Sasha's disembodied voice continued to ramble. “Of course it's formal wear. I laid out your tuxedo.” _Seriously, that woman was a nutcase_. “And I made soup from the neighbor’s bones”, she added, “You want a taste?” _Make that a mental case._

Something caught his eye again. Cole whirled around and fired more lightning bolts, hitting only bubbling tar. There- at his left- he saw her materialize from the tar. He threw his body to the side, avoiding another shockwave, and lugged a grenade. Sasha shrieked in agony and dropped to one knee. Seeing his chance, Cole quickly rushed over the dry bits of ceiling to reach her. Without thinking, he threw himself on her, wincing as the tar splattered all around them.

Sasha arched up from the sudden contact. “Yes”, she moaned in an aroused manner, “Yes! I love it!” That crazy bitch actually got off from that. It almost made Cole jump away from her and run for the hills, because what the Hell.

He didn't, and instead tried to pin her with his own weight. He reached around her shoulder to grab another of those valves that stuck out just below her collarbone, struggling as she seized his arm and attempted to stop him. He just hoped his brain wouldn't actually catch up on what he was actually  _doing_ here- pinning the crazy woman down with his own body weight in a way it might actually look like something  _far more_ pleasant- or else he might easily curl up into a ball and hide in a corner to burn these images from his mind. 

Holy shit, he was just glad Zeke wasn't around. Or anybody else. He was going to take this memory to his grave.

Cole scowled as Sasha strained to buck him off, snapping him back into reality. He had to take this bitch down, no matter what he had to do to accomplish that. He snarled and put his entire effort into grabbing that one valve. His fingers curled around it, and she made a startled noise, instantly trying to hold his arm to stop him.

_Fat Chance_ . Cole jerked back, tearing the tube out of her chest. Sasha dropped to the front screeching in pain, before she vanished into the tar once more. Cole quickly hopped back onto dry land, though he did pause long enough to try wipe some of the tar off his legs.

His head kept hurting, but he wouldn't give up now.

There was movement to the side, and he flung his arm out, startled to see  _Reapers_ aim their rifles at him.  _Where did they come from?!_

They opened fire, Cole stumbled back, hissing in pain. Lightning lashed across his wrist as he shot a bolt at each of them.

The guys vanished into thin air, so they weren't  _real_ . But his body believed they were, so when they shot him it  _hurt_ . Oh shit. He wasn't sure  _why_ , but he was certain he would not try to figure out what happened if those hallucinations tried to kill him.

“Remember the weekend in Maine?” Sasha continued to ramble, “We stayed in bed the entire time. And oh! How you whispered to me. The promises you made.” Okay. He was going to stop his brain right _there_. Because if he ever indulged the idea of having any _physical_ contact with that woman, he was going to take up celibacy.

“Shut the Hell up!” Cole barked, lugging grenades at where he saw the tar bubble once more.

Another Reaper illusion shot him in the back, throwing him nearly off balance. He groaned in pain and zapped it. Sasha screeched enraged.

“Why do you love her, Kessler?!” She demanded to know, all of the sensuality gone from her voice, “I'll kill her! I swear it! I'll wear her skin like a robe!”

Cole paused, panting. Did she just call him 'Kessler'?  _Why?_

And who did she mean with 'she'?

Sasha appeared at the other end of the room, snarling. Cole instantly whirled around and shot her with all he had to stun her, before he rushed over to his downed foe.

“Crazy Bitch!”

He grunted as he physically collided into her again, trying his best to ignore the shocks going through his body, then instantly grappled for one of the last two valves. Sasha bucked up and wrestled his arm, trying to stop him. Cole growled and let his weight fall to the front, forcing her to get one hand beneath her body for balance, before he managed to subdue her and grab the valve, yanking it out with all his strength. He backed off as she shrieked, but did notice she was moving slower than before.

She vanished, leaving a series of tentacles in her place that balanced a red glowing orb on their tips. Cole just knew better than letting them hit him, so he chucked grenades at them to destroy them.

“You don't know, do you?” Sasha's voice asked, and it was surprisingly free of her 'crazy' tone. “Of course not”, she continued, “How could you?”

_Know what? What was going on here?_

Sasha's voice turned icy. “But you'll find out soon enough. And oh. How you'll weep.” Another massive red shockwave raced towards the courier. Cole swore and jumped over it, feeling the energy tickle across his skin. It was...weaker than the first one. More desperate, too.

Sasha was weakening. The injuries he caused were taking their toll.

That didn't stop her from going crazy with the shockwaves, though. They shattered the ground, smashed into the walls and made everything shake like mad. At this rate, she was going to tear down the entire Jefferson Tunnel.

He had to stop her before that happened.

Sasha hissed, suddenly lunging out of the tar once more. Cole flinched back as her claw-like fingers seized him, pulling him closer. The courier hissed and put his effort into fighting back, into subduing her.

“Why don't you just die?!” He ground out, muscles straining from the battle. Sasha struggled against him, trying to stop him from reaching the last of her valves.

Cole didn't make it easy for her. Not one bit.

He pushed back, overpowering the woman, and finally seized the valve. With every ounce of his rage poured into his movement, he ripped the last tube out of her body. Sasha screamed in agony, dropping back against the floor.

She struggled, tried to stand up, but she didn't have any strength left. Tar oozed like blood all around her, trickling down the corner of her mouth. Cole scoffed, glaring at her.

She was done for.

He growled and approached her, face set in a deep scowl. He had to kill her, make sure nobody could use her again.

He stopped himself when she glanced at him, eyes blown wide and fearful. But most of all-  _lucid_ . This wasn't the crazy woman he just fought. This was who she had been...before she turned into  _that_ .

“You'll never control it, Cole”, she whispered, “Look at me. Look at what it's done. It controls you”

Cole froze, back going rigid. Sasha- she was a  _conduit_ . Just like him. 

He stepped back, terrified. She was a conduit  _just like him_ . Was  _this_ what his powers were going to do to  _him_ too? Sasha was barely  _human_ anymore, her mind degenerated. Mercer wasn't human either, having degraded to a level where violence was all he cared about and even his  _organs_ had been reduced. Would this happen to him sooner or later?

He stared at her, before his mind snapped back into action. She  _knew_ about the Ray Sphere. About the First Sons. About  _Kessler_ . She  _knew_ \- and he  _had to know._ He lunged to the front, hand closing securely around her throat while the other hovered over his head, lightning snapping out of it.

“You will tell me everything you know!” He barked. “About Kessler! About the First Sons! And about the Ray Sphere!”

Sasha made a startled gasp, struggling weakly against him, but he didn't let up. He needed those answers, damnit!

His world exploded around him in a ball of fire and agony.

 


	13. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stranded in the Warren, with no way out. Oh, and there are a bunch of blood-thirsty hobos with guns too. Fun for the entire family.

**Stranded**

 

Cole was getting really, really,  _really_ tired of being blown up. He had Sasha where he wanted her- at his mercy and ready to spill her secrets when an explosion tore them apart and threw him into a wall. He must have lost consciousness for a moment there, because the next moment he was beneath a massive amount of rubble. The Jefferson Tunnel continued to collapse, with wrecked concrete raining down all around him.

He was lucky nothing landed on him, because he was certain that this would  _really_ suck.

A snarl drew his attention for a moment, and he turned his head to see Mercer crouch over him, arms absurdly muscled and...holding up a giant slab of concrete that was obviously a piece of the collapsed ceiling.

Cole blinked in confusion. “Are you seriously keeping the tunnel off my ass?”

Mercer snorted. “More like  _half_ of it.” 

The courier grunted and shook his head to clear it. There was dust everywhere, which made breathing harder. Cole tried to move and quickly abandoned his endeavors when his entire body started aching.  _Ow_ . He couldn't shake the feeling he was missing something...

_Sasha!_ He inhaled sharply and whipped his head around. “Shit! Where's she?!”

“Further up”, Mercer growled, head cocked upwards to glare at the rubble above. Cole mimicked his motion, staring at the scene. Several men with gas masks and heavy weapons stood at the drop, glaring down at them. Two of them dragged Sasha away.

“Hey!” Cole shouted enraged, trying to get to his feet to charge after them. He couldn't. He struggled against gravity, until he realized that one of his legs was pinned under heavy rubble.

“Shit!” He swore, pulling at his knee to free himself. Mercer took notice of it, as seconds later thick leathery tentacles slithered over the ground and wrapped around the rubble and Cole's leg. The courier made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, feebly trying to wriggle free from them. Tentacles left a very bad notion in his head, and he really didn't want them anywhere near his body (not after Sasha), but the terrorist seemingly didn't care too much. He grunted once, shifting the weight on his back and shoulders, before the tentacles constricted and easily pulled the courier free. Cole winced, his ankle was throbbing. He could see blood seep through his pant leg, and he felt the sharp pain from his foot. Great, his ankle was probably broken.

“Shit” he swore again, “I have to get after them! They have Sasha!”

“Not on that foot you won't”, Mercer replied. He strained against the concrete. “We'll get her back, but we have to get out of here as quickly as possible.” Like on cue, there was a hollow groan somewhere above them, and water started to trickle through many cracks. “I'm not sure how long this'll hold”, the terrorist pointed out, “And I'm no great fan of being buried alive.” Cole grunted in reply and carefully climbed to his feet. He had to go slowly, because his leg refused to take his weight, and he felt incredibly drained. Mercer snorted and shifted his body, then slowly stood up and let the concrete slab drop to the ground behind them. The cracks above started to split further, and more water came rushing through. The tunnel was starting to collapse entirely.

Cole started to hobble to the front, climbing through the rubble. “Who were these guys?”

“First Sons probably”, Mercer replied, easily following after the courier. “Pros. They knew what they were doing.”

“Can't you go after them?”

“I _could_ ”, he replied, “But they won't be going _anywhere_ and right now I'm a little worried about you drowning.”

“Really?” Cole snorted as he pulled himself over a ledge, feeling his wounds knit themselves back together, though notably slower than it would usually go. “Who would have thought.”

“You're the only other super-powered guy here, making you a valuable cover”, the terrorist deadpanned. “Of course I would be able do this on my own, but then there would be a whole lot more screaming, dead people and destruction. _Before_ I even get started.”

The way he said that made the courier shiver. He heard stories about the extend of the destruction in Manhattan, knew that since the second attack the entire district had been abandoned. He couldn't risk this here in Empire. The people may be assholes, but they didn't deserve the same bullshit. Once was more than enough.

So there was no chance but else to have that guy use him for cover- though it worked both ways, didn't it? He could probably use him in return to make sure. _I will pitch in however you need me to_. He had offered this to him, and while he was dangerously loose, he _was_ powerful. He could probably use this very well. Cole exhaled and carefully placed his weight on his damaged foot. Well, it wasn't perfect, but at least it took his weight again. “No way back”, he grumbled, glancing at the tunnel mouth.

The both of them left the Jefferson Tunnel, stepping into the slums of the Warren.

* * *

 

Cole cringed back with a swear, blinking rapidly to try clearing his vision. He had assumed the substation that blew up in the Neon only affected the Neon- but it seemed like the  _entire_ city was without electricity.

Well, shit. Because that meant the people here had been with no energy for days already, allowing the gangs to run rampant. Plus it made his head feel all fuzzy, and he already needed some juice after fighting Sasha. He didn't had a chance to drain some electricity during this whole mess. And the tar still clung to him, making his head hurt even more with its stench. He needed a recharge as soon as possible, and that meant he either needed to find a way out of the Warren and to the Neon or at least get one of the substations online.

His phone rang, piercing into his brain with its shrill cry. He winced back, but still tapped it to reply. “Yeah?”

“ _Cole? What happened down there?”_ , Moya wanted to know and she actually did sound worried. _“Is Sasha dead?”_

“I wish”, the courier grunted. “Beat the living Hell out of her, but some guys in masks came and grabbed her. Brought the whole tunnel down.”

Moya made a disgruntled noise.  _“It's probably the First Sons. If we're lucky, they'll take care of her for us.”_

'Us', sure. Moya was just pissed they couldn't get to her first.

Cole groaned. “Listen, the power's out in this whole borough and I barely have the energy to walk.” Or heal his damn ankle, he was still hobbling along the street. “I need to get the nearest substation back online.”

“ _Wait a moment...”_ He heard the clacking of keys. Well, even if Moya used him, he could use her right back. More power for him, and less headaches were favorable over being used like a tool. _“Got it. Just a bit east of you.”_

“Thanks.”

“ _Cole?”_

“What?”

“ _You kept arguing with somebody. Is everything alright?”_

Cole swallowed, glancing at Mercer. He  _really_ just wanted to tell Moya that there was a terrorist currently walking besides him, but that would be a  _dick_ move. The other was seemingly trying to keep him alive plus had kept the clinics running by himself before, so for that alone he should give him the favor of doubt. But Moya was expecting an answer, so he should say  _something_ .

“Not really”, the courier replied. “Figured out the tar has some serious shelf-life, so Sasha kept invading my head the entire time.”

“ _Well, don't let her kill off your brain”_ , Moya warned. _“We'll talk later on.”_

He clicked his phone off and glanced at it. Mercer kept glaring at the Warren, attention away from him. Cole sighed. “Probably should call Zeke. I wanted to get back a few hours ago.”

“Plus the draw bridge had been opened. It needs to be lowered so you can get back”, Mercer replied casually. “Could be very well you're stuck here.”

The courier frowned, before he plucked a sheet of paper and a pencil from his pocket. ' _Can you do something about this? I don't really think I can move an entire bridge.'_ He wrote. Mercer shrugged.

“I can try”, he answered. “Just make sure the place has power.”

Cole nodded, then called Zeke.

“Zeke. Pick up.”

“ _Hey brother!”_ , Zeke answered, _“Where the Hell you been?”_

Cole sighed. “It's a long story. I'll tell you later. Wanted to let you know I'm over in the Warren.”

“ _The Warren?”_ Zeke gasped, _“That place had been a nightmare-central before the Blast. Hate to see what it's like now.”_

Nightmare. That was one way to explain it. Cole frowned at the sight of trash littered everywhere, people cowering in the shadows, and burning barricades cutting them off. Somebody had taken full control over the place and was lording over it with fear. Then he saw a group of armed people standing across the street, glaring at him and Mercer.

They wore a wild criss-cross of clothes, from old jackets and faded jeans to cobbled-together armor and...bags over their heads. He figured they were the ones running everything here.

“Dustmen”, Mercer supplied helpfully after noticing his stare. “They're called the Dustmen. They're controlling this entire sector, under orders of their leader.”

“Huh”, Cole muttered. Another gang, just like the Reapers. “You are well-informed”, he mumbled.

Mercer's lips twitched. “The open drawbridge doesn't stop me. I've been here before, over at the steel harbor, to collect information. Their boss is an old man called Alden. Conduit, most likely.”

He blinked. Another conduit?  _Really?_ That meant that there were five of them now: Him, Kessler, Sasha, Alden and Mercer. Plus the Reaper conduits, number unknown. Had they all been activated by the Blast? Then how close had they been when everything went to Hell?

Cole grunted and shook his head, watching how the Dustmen started moving towards them, holding their rifles upwards and eyes narrow behind their trash bag masks. “Man, screw these guys. All I want is get home and sleep.”

“I got this”, Mercer replied. “You start that substation- we don't need these fucks hiding in the dark.”

“ _Uh, Cole?”_ , Zeke asked, _“Who're you talkin' to?”_

“My head”, Cole replied smoothly. “Got doused in that crap tar and am still _seeing_ voices.” He shifted his body to make a break for it while Mercer flexed his fingers and headed towards the approaching Dustmen. “I'll give you a call when I figured out how to get home.”

“ _Keep your nose to the wind, man”_ , Zeke told him with a worried tone, then cut the connection.

Cole dashed to the side. One of the Dustmen yelled and swung his rifle into his direction, but Mercer was faster. He shot across the street within the blink of an eye, tackled into the group and just flung them back into the alleyway they have come from. Cole ignored their startled yells that were suddenly cut off, so he just kept on running. He had a substation to restart, get some more powers from it and end that god-damned headache.

The manhole cover was just a few blocks away from the collapsed tunnel, and he easily pried it open to drop through and land on the maintenance grate below. He groaned in pain from his head, but luckily there was a fuse box nearby. And more importantly- a fuse box that still had power. He drained it, feeling his exhaustion quickly fade away and his ankle righting itself as it knit itself back together.

His phone rang again.

“ _I pulled some intel on the Warren”_ , Moya's voice echoed over the sloshing of the sewage beneath. _“A couple of days after the Blast, the homeless people living there banded together and seized control of the entire borough. They call themselves the Dustmen.”_

He scoffed. “Guess that explains why they're all wearing trash bags.”

“ _I suspect they're lead by an extremely powerful conduit”_ , Moya continued, _“It'd be a big mistake to underestimate them.”_

“I get it.” He wasn't going to make that mistake again. He had learnt that lesson through continued bullet fire anyways. “I'm going to start the substation, then get out of here. Got to find a different way to deal with these idiots though.” He hopped off the grate and onto a pipe, carefully balancing along it.

He thought about the Dustmen. The Reapers were one thing. They had been civilians at one point, but his newest 'friend' had told him that only the tar was keeping them running. The same tar that had taken away all their individuality and turned them into mindless drones under Sasha's control. They were _victims_ , but victims beyond any help- releasing them from this Hell was the only thing they could do for them.

But the Dustmen- they didn't seem to be under the control of some mind-raping tar. They were doing this from their own free will. They hurt others, controlled innocent civilians because they _wanted_ to. And in a way, that made them even worse than the Reapers. And that meant that they didn't deserve even one _shred_ of mercy. Martial law and vigilantism were the rule here anyways, and nobody was going to miss these bastards.

The courier scowled and moved through a maintenance hatch, then jumped off to reach the underground transformer. It had the same build as the others had, so that made it easy figuring out what to do. Cole jumped up and grabbed the coils, closing the circuit with his own body.

The energy slamming through him felt  _divine_ after this whole mess with Sasha. He felt himself becoming stronger, injuries and exhaustion being wiped away while deep inside him new powers were unlocked. 

He wondered what he got this time as he let go of the coils and dropped back, landing in a crouch with lightning still arching away from him. His fingers and arms tickled in a way that was familiar to him- his feet felt similar when he learnt his grinding. So this power had something to do with his arms, huh?

He focused on it, and lightning snapped from the palms of his hands. Cole's brow went upwards as he noticed the power from this pressing against his shoulders, as if the energy was trying to push him upwards. He tensed his muscles and jumped up, focusing the lightning again.

He  _hovered_ in place, descending at a much slower pace.

Cole blinked and tried it again as soon his feet touched the ground, this time trying to steer into a different direction. He moved, slowly soaring into the direction he wanted to go. It felt a bit like being  _Ironman_ .

A grin was plastered over his face. “Oh Hell yes.”

He glanced over into the darkness, finding more remains of the catwalk poking out of the sewage. He could probably jump the distance with no problem, but where was the fun? He sprinted and jumped, concentrating those static thrusters- and completely passed the first grate to land on the second one.

Well, looks like he could almost fly. Cool.

“Traveling with style”, he grinned. He started running down the sewers, using his newly-acquired thrusters to easily cross gaps he would have needed to waste incredible amounts of time for. This was just plain awesome.

He stopped quickly though, eyes narrowing when he noticed the hushed whispers coming from further down the canal. He heard things like 'That's him', and 'Shoot him'. So there were Dustmen down here too.

He scrunched up his nose and carefully approached the other side, glancing down.

The Dustmen were standing  _inside_ the sewage, hoping to take him by surprise. Cole swallowed the bile that threatened to climb into his throat (because what the Hell?! This was just plain gross!) and set his face into a scowl. Well, looks like they were about to learn what 'conductive' meant. He didn't even need to shoot the guys, it was enough to just shoot the sewer water next to them to fry all of them and make them reel over. He left them to drown.  
No mercy at all.

Traversing the sewer was easy with the thrusters, and Cole figured that he could cross immense distances as long his starting point was high enough. He also figured that the Dustmen were a lot more dangerous than the Reapers, because he faced two of them in a short succession that had bazookas. The courier rolled to the side in mid-air, drawing his thrusters back to drop to the ground. He gathered lightning, and unleashed it upon making contact, frying the guys and blowing their guns up.

The deeper he went, the more it became apparent that he was endlessly dependent on his new power. There was barely any catwalk left for him to walk along, instead there were only tanks and pipes that peeled out of the darkness and allowed him only a short moment of time to latch onto. The ladders he climbed along felt grimy, even through his half-gloves, and they were incredibly rusty, worrying him that they might snap under his weight.

But eventually, he did manage to find the substation. He panted slightly from exhaustion- focusing on his thrusters took a lot out of him, though he was proud of himself. He charged the station back on, watched how it came to life, before he turned and headed back. He still had to figure out a way to get back to the Neon.

* * *

 

When Cole slipped out of the manhole, he was pleased to see this part of the Warren come back to life. He felt drained from his trip through the sewers, so he headed to the nearest street light and charged himself up.

His phone rang, and Cole picked up.

“ _Hey Cole”_ , Zeke greeted him. _“Remember Dwight?”_

“Of course”, the courier replied. “He _stole_ your car and sold it for the parts. Trish had to come and pick us up.”

“ _Well, yeah”_ , Zeke stumbled over his own tongue for a bit, until he managed to pick up his line again. _“Anyways, I just ran into his sister. She thinks he's in some kind of trouble. Wants to know if you'll look for him.”_

Cole exhaled. “Look- I'm tired. I'm doused with mind-raping tar. I'm stuck in the Warren with blood thirsty bums that have automatic weapons. And I still have no idea how to get back to the Neon. Give me  _one_ good reason why I should look for Dwight.”

Zeke cleared his throat, and it was easy picturing him running his hand through his hair.  _“Uh, because I've dug his sister for a real long time now- and, uh, you'd be doing me a real solid with this one.”_

Cole was just floored with the reply. He slowly, very slowly, placed his palm in his face. “And you think”, he concluded, “If I find Dwight, she'll 'reward' you?”

“ _Hell, it's not like I can do anything from here”_ , Zeke groused. _“She says Dwight was hangin' around the Chummy Chicken the last time they talked, 'cuz he was working over there. That might be a good place for you to start.”_

“Zeke”, Cole groaned. “I have no real intention to go look for your buddy. I can't even stand him.”

“ _C'mon, man. You'd do me a favor.”_

The courier grunted. “Fine”, he growled, “I'll go look for him. But you- you will make sure I get a cold beer when I get back, otherwise I  _will_ zap you.”

“ _Thanks man!”_

Zeke cut the connection and Cole remained the way he had been: With one hand placed firmly in his face to smother the urge to scream.

But he had no real idea how to get back into the Neon anyways, so might as well test out the waters of the Warren and check on Dwight. Maybe he got some Dustmen to fry.

He sprinted towards a tall apartment building and scaled the dirty wall, then heaved his body over the edge and started running over the roof to jump off it, creating his thrusters to glide towards the train tracks.

His phone rang again.

“ _Cole, you there?”_

Cole nearly botched the landing, barely managed to land on an overhead signal light with a heavy thud and swaying from his own momentum. He stabilized his balance in a heartbeat and answered the call.

“Hi Trish”

“ _It's getting bad over here”_ , his girlfriend said in a worried tone, _“People are dying.”_

 _Oh no_. This was even worse than he thought. Cole frowned darkly. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“ _I don't think so”_ , the nurse replied with a tired voice. _“I need to get a bus over to the Bayview and see if it still has any supplies.”_

Cole looked over to where the massive hospital sat in the darkness. “I came through the tunnel”, he explained, “But it's trashed. Same with the Stone Canal Drawbridge.”

Trish was silent for a moment.  _“You remember Roger Millers from Amy's graduation? He's a city engineer that used to work with my dad. If anyone can fix the bridge, it'll be him.”_

“You have any idea where he could be?”

“ _He lives by Valentine Park- though...I haven't heard of him in a while.”_

Valentine Park- the Chummy Chicken was on the way there, so he could check up on Dwight first. “I'll try to find him”, Cole assured her.

“ _Thanks, Cole”_

Trish ended the call. The courier snorted and lunged off the beam to land on the tracks below and start grinding along them. Three seconds later Cole wondered whether he could use his thrusters to increase his grinding speed- so he tried it by fanning his hands to the back and focused on his thrusters.

He tumbled off the tracks at the next sharp turn, having gone too fast to actually pay any attention on his surroundings.  _Okay. Note to self: figure out how to steer before going any faster than thirty miles._

He shook his head and stood up to check the area. He was near the docks, and near the Chummy Chicken. He never liked eating there- the waitresses always looked like they hated everybody around, it smelled of grease and all children present were loud spoiled brats. It was only  _good_ if one was hungover as Hell.

Which was probably why Dwight worked there.

As he rounded the restaurant, he stopped in his tracks. There was a body in front of him. Cole blinked for a second, before he went over and knelt down, feeling for a pulse. There was none, but the body was also still warm. And the blood pool still fresh. Cole turned the corpse over, and a grim frown settled on his face.

It was Dwight.

Well, he couldn't say he was very  _sad_ about this, but it just showed him how serious the situation in Empire was. People died on the streets, people he  _knew_ . How long until it were Zeke or Trish? Plus, these wounds didn't look like they had been torn by bullets. This looked more like...claws? Like Mercer then, but that dead guy here was still in one piece and the wounds were too uneven, too messy.

He muttered explicits under his breath and called Zeke. “Zeke?”

“ _You found him?”_

“Yeah.” He exhaled. “Dwight's dead, Zeke. Someone really messed him up.”

“ _Aw man!"_ , Zeke complained. _“His sister's gonna flip out when I tell her that.”_ Cole almost heard the light bulb going _click_ in Zeke's brain. _“Hell!”_ He exclaimed, _“You should find the guys who did it. I could play off that angle.”_

The courier groaned. “Really, Zeke?! Your friend's dead and all you think is-”

“ _C'mon man. I need this.”_

“There is something deeply wrong with you, Zeke”, Cole grumbled. He thought for a moment what to do now, when he remembered Brandon and Lynnae.

He had seen what she saw before her death, so maybe it would work with Dwight too. He placed both hands at the dead man's temples and focused, carefully sending a weak discharge into his brain to jump start it.

And witness his last moments.

“ _What the Hell?”_ Dwight saw something at the corner, something glowing, carefully edging towards him. As it came around, he noticed it were crab-like things. Cole frowned, concentrating. These things glowed yellow, looked like they were made from trash metal, and were about the size of a large pumpkin.

They lunged at him, and Cole ground his teeth together as he  _felt_ the man's pain when they tore into him.  _“No! Stay away from me! ARRGHHH!”_

He flinched back, panting when the phantom pain subsided. He just witnessed the guy  _die_ from  _his_ point of view. It was worse than Lynnae's death too, because this was neither fast, nor merciful.

“ _Cole?”_ Zeke asked, _“You sounded weird just now.”_

“Possibly”, Cole replied, shaking his head to concentrate. He filtered through the electronic residues around, and came back with three clear ones: His own, blaring into his senses, Dwight's, and a third one.

His killer.

“Gotcha” Cole followed the trail, the electronic 'hand print' of the killer. “Got the trail, Zeke. I'm going to take that bastard down”, he growled into his phone.

“ _Uh...You used that Jedi Psycho vision thingy?”_

“It's hard to make out”, Cole replied with a frown, trying to focus on the echo. “Looks like a man and a dog, or something.”

“ _Dwight was killed by a dog?”_ , Zeke shuddered. _“Damn. Had a cousin that went the same way.”_ He inhaled sharply. _“Whew. Shouldn't have had an open casket, but ol' Smitty wanted one. People were passing out, puking, you name it. It was horrible. Still haven't recovered from that one.”_

“Yeah, then probably you shouldn't ever meet Christine's dog”, Cole replied off-handedly. He didn't really pay any attention to what he said, because the echo was still running away from him. “Big black beast. More bear than dog, really.” He narrowed his eyes, following after echo. He passed some dude hanging posters on the walls, but didn't pay any further mind to it. The killer had walked through an alley, so he went after him.

His feet skidded across the ground when his senses told him he was  _close_ . And in danger. The trash cans in the mouth of the alley exploded, revealing five of those trash crabs. They screeched a metallic shriek and advanced towards him. Cole exhaled in annoyance. “You gotta be kidding me.”

He leveled a hand at them and shot several lightning bolts, frying the things and shattering them. He frowned, because they were incredibly pathetic. The slightest amount of power and they broke. Cole shook his head and continued his way, before he stopped next to the remains of the trash crabs.

They were only made of trash, no joints or electronics...He frowned. But they had been glowing, and they were moving. Logically, there was nothing that should allow them exactly that. They should have remained a pile of trash, so what...

His brows furrowed.  _Conduits_ . Like those of the Reapers.  _Of course_ !

Only, it seemed, the Dustmen had conduits that could make trash come to life. So they were telekinetic?

“Look what we have 'ere”

Cole paused, head slowly moving upwards to stare right into the muzzle of a rifle. Four Dustmen sneered down at him. The courier scowled.

He lunged at the closest guy, too fast for him to react properly. Cole send a violent uppercut into the man's jaw, snapping his head back and breaking his spine in the process.  _Oops._

Well, superhuman strength was apparently part of the package. He didn't care though- these guys had made their choice. Now he made his.

He threw his arm out, smacking the others with a shockwave backwards and started shooting lightning bolts at them while they were falling back. Once they hit the ground, they didn't get up again. Cole didn't bother checking whether they were still alive (didn't care either) and continued jogging after the echo. He knew he wouldn't have too much time, any later and the trail would have gone cold.

“ _Any luck?”_ , Zeke asked.

“Not yet”, Cole replied. “Dealing with some crab-things that are running all over the place. I think the transients are making them from old parts.”

“ _Keep looking, man. Gotta find the trash-bagger that killed Dwight.”_

Cole scowled deeper, witnessing a group of Dustmen rushing around the corner. He had his arm outstretched to zap them, but caught a rocket to the face before he could do anything.

He did manage to throw a shockwave in time, but was flung backwards, though he bounced to his feet quick enough. His jacket was pretty much done for, however. It was a shame. It had been such a nice jacket. The courier pushed back forwards, through the blast, and towards the Dustmen- who seemed more than shocked to see him.

They didn't last too long once he set his mind into it. With a groan, he doubled over, hands against his knees to stop shaking. He couldn't stop here now, but he was so incredibly tired. He drained a nearby lantern to heal himself, then continued after the echo. He felt still tired, but at least he wasn't in pain anymore. Just a little while longer, and he could return home for some sleep. A group of trash crabs tried to ambush him, but they were dealt with fast enough too.

“Fricken' junk monsters”

He passed the Eaglepoint Penitentiary, and paid it no attention. No, his focus centered solely on the guy at the end of the road.

He was pretty large, dressed in the same wild mixture of junk clothes like all the other Dustmen, had a massive bazooka slung over his shoulder, and he also wore armor made of metal plates. He glared at Cole, but didn't say anything. Instead, he slammed his fists together and made the trash around him float, fashioning it into trash crabs.

So definitely a telekinetic conduit. Shit.

Cole pulled his lips away from his teeth in a snarl. “Finally found your sorry ass.”

The conduit fired his rocket launcher. Cole flung himself to the side to avoid the projectile and started rushing towards him in a wide arc. The man couldn't move fast enough because of his armor, making him easy prey. Cole pounced at him, throwing him over with his own body weight.

“Get off me!” The conduit snapped.

“Not gonna happen”, Cole snarled at him. “Now hold still.” He slapped his palm into the man's face. “That's for being an asshole.” 

He started draining the man's neuroelectric energies, holding him still as he thrashed and convulsed. But once the man fell limp, his trash creations collapsed as well. Cole got off the body and shook himself. He didn't enjoy killing, but that guy had it coming. And if he simply let his instincts take over, he was deadly and highly efficient.

And that guy was never going to harm anybody again.

He tapped his phone. “Hey Zeke”, he said. “I took care of the guy that greased Dwight.” His brow furrowed. “And just so we're clear: this was a one-time deal. I'm not doing this to help you  _score_ .”

“ _I hear ya, brother”_ , Zeke replied with a delighted tone. _“I owe you a big one.”_

Cole snorted. Sure. Whoever believes that. He turned and looked at the street sign, realizing that he was pretty close to the Valentine Park.

He could check for Roger.

Cole headed over, but his feet skidded to a stop at the sight of the scene. “This doesn't look good.”

Several Dustmen, all dead, were strewn about. He could see the limbs bent at wrong angles, could see the caved-in sections of their bodies, and he saw the impact craters in the ground. Also, there was nobody around that looked like Roger- so somebody freed him.

The courier exhaled in relief. There was only one in the entire city who had the balls to face the gangs- other than himself. Looks like Mercer did what he asked him to.

* * *

 

After having taken out the three Dustmen that had tried to ambush him, Alex had headed over to the Stone Canal Drawbridge and had puzzled over how to get it working again. He had seen the control panels and decided that he had no idea how to repair it.

He was a highly intelligent man, having access to the most brilliant minds of their time, but none of them had any knowledge about damaged drawbridges. He could create viral life forms through genetic modifications from scratch. He could drive and repair tanks and gunships. He had knowledge on how to make his own Crystal Meth, how to forge documents, bribe the right people and play several musical instruments- but repairing a bridge? Fuck it. He needed somebody who did.

Problem was: Where could he find somebody like that?

“Hands over yer head”

He turned slowly, glaring at the man threatening him with a shotgun. Alex scowled at him and his three buddies. “No”

“Then say good-bye to yer fuckin' brains!” The man squeezed the trigger and Alex's world turned dark.

Well, he had to hand it to these guys: they really did not screw about. And going for the  _head_ was a smart choice. If he had been any other.

Too bad he wasn't any other. Blowing off his skull didn't stop him. It only made him kill whoever shot him in the most painful way possible.

He focused on getting his  _eyes_ back first, watching amused the terrified expressions of the Dustmen as his skull regenerated, facsimile of bones, tissues and skin snapping back into existence through hundreds of fine tendrils. He turned to face them fully, grinning demonically when his hood re-formed and slipped over his head on its own accord. He bared his teeth and his eyes started glowing red. “My turn.”

He jumped at the four shocked men, slamming one fist through each of the chests of the first two, killing them. His tendrils rose from his back and slipped into their flesh, infecting and turning them into Blacklight Biomass for consumption. While their remains were still pulled into his body with wet smacks, he was already moving again, overwhelming the other two men and consuming them as well.

He should have had enough Biomass from the Reaper compound at the Jefferson Bridge, but the red tar, while not  _real_ Bloodtox, did have strong anti-viral properties which made it even more effective than the real deal (screw that bitch!). It had killed his body faster than he could adapt to it, and that required him to slice off about half of his total mass. Which meant, he felt slightly starved already.

It was a good thing he found such  _willing_ subjects. The ones he got after leaving Jefferson Tunnel- he had tried to consume them, but had quickly smothered that idea to avoid the courier watching. Now, however, there was nobody else around.

Alex pulled back, his sides squirming as his body broke down the rifles before discarding them as trash. He closed his eyes, watching how four new lives unfolded inside his mind.

In an instant, his face set into a deep frown, and his mood worsened. Those four Dustmen- they were the lowest of the low, scum in every sense of the word. All of them had ended up living on the streets, all four because they couldn't keep a single job, no matter how easy it had been, just because they couldn't stop being assholes. And then, after the Blast, they got adopted by this Alden Tate, and became his soldiers.

And, under him, they committed crimes. First small ones, like stealing from the various stores, then from people's homes. Then they went on with blackmailing, violence, rape, murder. Their morality had been degrading fast.

In the end, they started to capture every single engineer and mechanic from all over the Warren and dragged them away to work on Alden's Tower. They worked them to death even, and whoever refused was executed in public to scare the others into submission.

Not even Blackwatch had sunken to that low. What they did was  _effective_ and it was the  _only_ way to curb in a raging infection, no matter what ethics an morale said. It was their job to wipe out a plague, and they were damn good at it, civilian casualties or not. But plain murder for not wanting to be forced into labor, just to scare others? This served no purpose other than make themselves larger than they were. This didn't serve a greater Good.

This was slavery.

Alex snarled enraged, glaring at the massive tower jutting out from the center of the Warren.

He was maybe inhuman, but they were the  _monsters_ . No human had the right to demolish another's life. Taking everything a person is and make them a slave was something he would never allow. It was the human's own decision how to destroy their own lives, but it was  _theirs_ . Nobody was allowed to have any say in it.

He should head over there now, destroy all of them and soak the Warren with blood, make sure he got every last of the Dustmen.

But he couldn't. He didn't want to be found out, but that resolve was rapidly weakening with every piece of scum he consumed. Soon he wouldn't be able to hold himself back any longer- and then he would start  _murder_ everything, consequences be damned. Once that point was reached, there would be no turning back.

He thought that maybe he had to get the courier in on it as well. Something told him he too was willing to tear these fucks limb from limb for what they've done. Whether he was aware of it or not- both of them were kindred spirits.

The first one after Cross and Heller.

Alex turned, glancing into the direction of the cemetery. The four Dustmen knew that tonight there was another execution: Another engineer that refused to work on Alden's Tower.

An engineer, Alex knew, who would be able to fix the bridge- or in the very least, knew somebody who could. Exactly the kind of person he'd been looking for. So he jumped off the floor and headed towards the Valentine Park.

Crossing the distance was no great problem, staying unseen wasn't either- the civilians were too scared to look outside, and too dumb to check the sky or roofs.

The Blacklight Runner stopped atop a two-story, run-down building, while glaring at the scene before him. He saw a man cowering on the floor, four more Dustmen around him, waving guns and throwing insults. Alex realized that this was the engineer they wanted to kill to make a statement, though apparently the crowd wasn't big enough. However, it was too big for Alex to act without restraints. So he couldn't simply drag the guy off with his Whipfist (plus he might take offense in it). What to do...what to do.

But then again, Alex had always been the more direct type.

He scanned the area, to make sure all of the Dustmen were in one place, before he crouched low and coiled his muscles, then pulled back the Biomass making up his jacket and hoodie as an afterthought. Once his surface had settled on the simple shirt, he released his pent-up energy and catapulted himself through the air, crossing the distance easily.

He landed heavily in front of the engineer, startling the Dustmen, but didn't give them a chance to react. He rushed to the front and slammed both fists into the ground. Three out of four bums were thrown off their feet through the force, careening through the air, while the fourth was far away enough to merely stagger. Still, good enough for the Runner. Alex moved even before he managed to turn around, leaping above him and smashed him beneath his weight. The moment the other three hit the ground, Alex was already upon them. He stomped on the biggest guy, snapping his neck to kill him, before he grabbed the other two and easily crushed their throats, leaving them to suffocate.

Finished with them and with no other foes left, he turned and dusted his hands off, heading towards the engineer. The man stared at him with wide, panicked eyes.  _Good job. Scaring the shit out of the guy I just wanted to rescue._

Alex mentally face-palmed, though outwardly he tried to look less like he wanted to continue murdering people. He eyed the man. “Cole MacGrath sent me”, he told him simply.

The man's eyebrows went up in surprise. “The guy with the powers?!” He asked, “He's here?”

Alex nodded. “The drawbridge is out. He needs it lowered.” He inclined his head, watching the man. “Can you fix it?”

“Hell, if you keep those bastards off my ass, I'll be fixing up a goddamn Jumbo Jet for you.”

“Good” The Runner turned and glanced down the street. “We'd better get moving then.”

“Yeah. It's better.” The engineer began jogging up besides the him. “Uh- thanks for getting me out of that.”

Alex furrowed his brows slightly. Usually people screamed and ran when he killed others, even without the use of his weapons. If they were  _thanking_ him however, then the entire situation was even more fucked up than he thought.

“You know where the others are held?” He asked instead. “The other mechanics?”

“Close to their 'Tent city'”, the engineer snorted. The tag on his shirt read 'Millers'. “But you'll need an army if you want to get them out.”

Alex snorted. “Don't worry”

He lifted his arm, signaling Millers to stop, when a heavily armored Dustman came around the corner. He noticed them too and slammed his fists together, creating...crawling constructs made of trash.

Another conduit?

Alex's eyes narrowed. With Millers here, he couldn't consume the guy, though there were going to be more of them anyways. So he didn't need to keep this one intact. His expression shifted to a smirk, and he ducked low. The next moment, he pushed off the ground to sprint towards the conduit, crushing the approaching trash crabs beneath his feet before he collided into the man. The sheer force of his tackle snapped several ribs and send the man hurtling backwards. Before he even hit the ground, Alex already pounced on him and slammed his head hard against the ground, severing his spine in several places. He crushed his throat to make sure he was dead, then pulled back easily. Millers approached him fearfully. Alex only grunted and jerked his chin into the direction of the Stone Canal Drawbridge. The way was clear now, though there were more than enough Dustmen coming towards them. Millers reached the bridge first, and immediately started going over the controls.

“Man. This is screwed up nine ways from Sunday”, he complained. He tapped a few keys and glanced at Alex. “Uh...keep an eye on my back while I fix this?”

Alex nodded. “Sure”

The engineer started tapping buttons and turning knobs, while Alex watched as long it was possible until the group of Dustmen finally breached their position, charging them. The Runner merely rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers. “I got them”, he said, and jumped at the closest guy before he could even react. Using the momentum of his blow, Alex slid across the floor towards the others with the body still pinned beneath his feet. He didn't pull out his claws for this. They were just human, after all, and broke just as easily as one.

He quickly dispatched them, using punches, scythe-like kicks and brutal stomps to clear out the area without any troubles. Bodies shattered, and more than a few times he slightly underestimated his strength and blew clear holes through the men, instead of just collapsing their chests or break their spines. Whatever helped him stop these bastards- dead was dead and in the end, it didn't matter what got the job done as long it did get done.

It reminded him of that time he had protected Ragland back in that abandoned Blackwatch compound. Even with the parasite eating into his back and his powers restricted, he had managed to hold several Walkers and Hunters off their asses long enough for the doctor to finish his work.

Satisfied, he dusted his hands off as he headed back to the engineer, the man eying him with arched eyebrows. He glanced at the bodies littering the street, then cleared his throat. “Guess they don't want the bridge open.” He tapped a few buttons with an annoyed sigh. “Main circuits are fried too. Need to bypass this.”

“Take your time”, Alex replied when more Dustmen ran towards them. “I'm far from finished.”

He decimated the next group just as easily as the first one, then returned to the engineer, just in time for the electricity to get back online in the Warren.

“Like on signal”, Millers grinned and pressed a button. The drawbridge creaked and started to lower itself, but stopped at around half its closed state. Millers pressed the button again before he huffed out. “You've got to be kidding me!” He complained, “The Hydraulics on the other side aren't engaging.”

“Can you fix them?”

“No”, the engineer explained. “Has to be done on the far side of the bridge.”

“So?” Alex cocked his head. He could easily grab the guy and haul his ass over to the other side, though there was a strange expression on his face, before the man snapped his fingers. “I know!” He exclaimed. “I know someone” He grabbed his radio and switched it on. “Lou? This is Roger”, he started, stopping Alex in his attempt to just carry that guy over and make him fix the other side. “The hydraulics of the SC isn't engaging and I need your help getting it online. Where are you?”

Alex came closer, listening to the exchange.  _“Memorial Park, near the bridge”_ , 'Lou' replied in a hushed tone.  _“But unless you're carrying a gun, I won't be going anywhere. Reapers are swarming all over the place.”_

This gave Alex pause, because without Sasha the Reapers should have degenerated into mindless puppets without any control. But it did seem they still had a sort of 'basic' programming, allowing them to function even without their Queen.

“Well”, Roger glanced at Alex. “I'm sending something better than a gun. See you in a bit.” He clicked the radio off and turned to the other. “Uh...would you mind?”

“Not at all”, the man replied. “I'll get him back.” He cut himself off when he remembered those sadistic attempts Dana made in getting him more social. “More importantly though- are you going to be alright?” He asked with a small wince, as if it was physically hurting him.

“Guess so. You did take out quite a lot of them, so I doubt they'll be back too fast. Just hurry, please.”

Well, 'hurry' was something Alex excelled at. He could run through half Manhattan, blow up tanks and UAVs on the way and still be on time to prevent Blackwatch from finding Dana's hideout. He sure as Hell could find an engineer.

He sprinted up the half-lowered bridge, easily leapt across the gap and landed on the other side without even slowing down. Instead, he pushed his speed up and started  _running_ , making the street buckle and warp beneath his feet as he dashed past.

Reaching Lou was easy, taking out the few Reapers patrolling the perimeters was even easier.

He turned to the hidden engineer. “You alright?”

“Holy crap!” Lou gasped, staring at the Reaper Alex just flattened into the ground. “That was insane.” He eyed the Runner. “Uh, better than a gun, huh? You the guy Roger sent?”

“I am. Come, there isn't much time.”

He headed back towards the bridge, this time at a slower pace so the engineer could follow him. He did see several Reapers, but they hung back, watching him from beneath their hoods. Alex had no intention to waste any time hunting them down yet, though it was apparent that even without Sasha they were able to function to a certain degree. Not like the Infected.

He exhaled annoyed. This meant they would still be able to harass the people, though without the source of the tar, there wouldn't be any new Reapers. It was just a matter of time before they were wiped out.

They reached the drawbridge in silence, with Lou panting like he just ran a Marathon. Alex didn't care too much. He was more focused on the enraged snarls echoing down the street. Reapers, and they weren't happy with someone trying to break their hold on the Neon.

“Start working”, he instructed, “I keep those Reapers off your back.”

They weren't too much of a threat, however. Without someone to control their actions, their strategy was simply to try to overwhelm whoever they wanted to take down with sheer numbers. They wielded their guns with precision, but didn't employ anything bigger than a machine gun. To Alex, this wasn't even worth his full attention. All he needed to do was to beat the ever-living fuck out of these bastards, and make sure they didn't get up again. Which they usually didn't after taking a blow from the Runner.

As soon none were left, Alex turned and headed back over the bridge, just in time to see Dustmen approach Roger. The Runner sighed in annoyance and jumped off, snapped his legs back to soar over them, and then shot straight down, impacting into the street with so much power he easily turned the largest part of the group into paste, and killed any other with the shockwave.

Despite everything, he found he was having... _fun_ . The type of mindless fun he didn't have experienced very often since Manhattan. It had been stealth consuming and taking out cartels the entire time- stalking and observing and very little bloodbath- but now he could easily take out foes that helpfully identified themselves. Just a shame he couldn't go all out with his claws.

Roger stared at the massive red stain and the deep crater and swallowed. “I don't think they're going to cause much trouble anymore”, he muttered. “Uh, thanks for the rescue- but I think you might want to check up on Lou?”

Alex sighed and headed back across the bridge, taking notice of the guys atop the building just across from Lou's working place. No rest for the wicked, huh? He pushed off the floor and headed towards the building, then simply jumped against its wall to sprint upwards and take the guys out. He grabbed the biggest one by the shoulders and jumped back down, slamming him into the ground to smash him and three more Reapers into a stain.

“Uh...great work, man”, Lou swallowed nervously. “Uh, not to make you angry, but it looks like there isn't enough power to-” He paused. “Okay. _Now_ there's enough power. Guess that's it. Now if you don't mind, I need to find someplace safe.”

Alex didn't mind, but rather headed back across the bridge. He stopped next to the gap to see a tell-tale arc of lightning channeled into the control panels. So, MacGrath was back then.

The Runner arrived next to the courier just as the latter finished charging up the hydraulics to make them work. The bridge creaked and lowered itself to form a passage. Roger stood besides the courier, shaking his head. “And to think, if I had taken early retirement, I would have missed all of this.” He exhaled. “I think I need to get my head examined.”

“Thanks for helping with the bridge”, MacGrath said. He glanced at Alex, voice lowering to a barely audible whisper. “Thanks for taking this over.”

“No sweat”, Roger claimed. “Tell Trish I said Hello.” He glanced at the Runner. “Uh, thanks to you too, but it could have worked with a little less violence.”

“Probably”, Alex shrugged. “Wouldn't have been as much fun, though.”

“Okay. Guess you'll need a shrink then too.” Roger sighed. “I'll be off then, look for a safe place to stay.”

“Good luck”, the courier called after him. They waited for a moment before he turned to the viral weapon of mass destruction. “Good to see you managed to help here”, he muttered, having placed his hand over his phone to smother any sound. “I trust it wasn't too much trouble?”

“Not really, no”, Alex shook his head. “Was actually a better work-out than what I usually do.”

The courier frowned, and glanced at the crater with the ground remains of the Dustmen. “I don't really want to know what you 'usually' do. Nope. Never in my life.” He tapped his phone and called the nurse.

“ _Hi, you've reached Trish Dailey's voice mail”_ , her voice told them, _“Please leave a message.”_ The courier arched his eyebrows. “Guess she finally went to bed then?” He picked up his tone. “Trish, I just wanted to let you know that the drawbridge is down. I'll give you a call tomorrow and see how things are going.”

He ended the call, but picked another number. “Hey Zeke, you still on the roof?”

Alex tilted his head slightly. Zeke, that was his roommate, right?

“ _You know it, brother”_ , a cheery voice replied. _“Trying to hook up with Dwight's sister- you swinging by for a little siesta?”_

MacGrath yawned. “Yeah. See you in a bit.”

Alex tilted his head slightly. “I'll be going too”, he said. “I'll be in touch.”

The courier yawned again and nodded. “Hey”, he muttered, “Thanks for your help. You know, you could have been a real asshole and leave them to die, but you didn't. So, thanks. Guess you aren't as much of a bastard as you seem.”

The Runner snorted. “Just see you'll get some rest. If you return tomorrow, this place is going to be out for your blood. You have broken the hold they had on this place- they are going to want vengeance.”

“Yeah, thanks for shitting all over my achievements”, the courier yawned and stretched, “But I guess that's what I get for trying to play Hero.” He turned and headed across the bridge to walk back into the Neon.

Alex watched him for a moment, then turned and glanced at the great tower. He still had something left to do. He wouldn't raze the Dustmen's tent city, but he would make sure to get the captives out. He felt he owed it to them. And if he got his hands on a few high-ranking Dustmen with knowledge he could need, he certainly wouldn't say no.

 


	14. Standard Protocol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes some heavy headcanon including the conduits and their abilities, as well some things about Cole and Alex. Also, Moya's a bloody Bloodhound.

** Standard Protocol **

 

When Cole returned to their apartment, he didn't have any strength left other than to peel his clothes away and drop into bed. True sleep didn't come to him, though. With the silence around him, the screams inside his head were only louder, roaring in his ears.

Fire was flashing through his mind, both from the visions he'd seen and the things he experienced. He felt the bite of bullets over and over and  _over_ again, heard snarls and shouts and screams. Sasha was lurking in a corner, taunting him. There were people, turning into Reapers, then lunging at him.

Cole jerked up with a hoarse yell, lightning arching around him to defend him if necessary.

But he was alone. His heart was still hammering against his chest, even as he leaned back and draped one arm over his face, inhaling deeply in hopes to banish the remnants of his nightmare from his brain.

All of this- it was just too much. The world around him was dying and he was the only one who was supposed to do something. But what? Seriously, weren't there some people out there whose  _job_ it was to pretend the world from ending? Like the god-damned  _army_ ?!

Cole didn't want to be the one who everybody else was depending on. He was a  _quitter_ , damn it- he quit College instead of standing up to the teachers who screwed Zeke over, he quit talking to his parents instead of trying to tell them that this was  _his_ life, not theirs. Cole was used to do things the easy way- just walk away and pretend this never happened, pick up his life and continue. But  _now_ he couldn't. He couldn't just walk away. He had started going down a street already, and that street was strictly one-way. No way out. All he could do was continue- or die trying.

And he sure as Hell did not  _want_ to die. So all that was left was to keep on walking, clawing his way through God knows how many people he had to kill and who wanted to kill him, no matter what was going to happen.

Zeke wouldn't understand. No matter how much Cole loved that guy like a brother, he was also a complete and utter  _idiot_ . He didn't know how hard it was to suddenly find himself at the center of this entire mess. Cole didn't actually  _want_ to solve this- he just wanted to be safe with Trish and Zeke, screw everybody else. But he couldn't just leave Empire behind. It was  _his_ fault all of this happened, so it was  _him_ who had to figure out how to end this.

And hopefully walk away after that.

Seriously, all of this was rapidly growing over his head. Superpowers, conduits, DARPA, Sasha, Kessler, Mercer, Moya, electrical powers- he was a frickin'  _bicycle courier_ , for God's sake!

His head swam, but trying to sleep wasn't going to help. Cole growled and sat up, then moved out of his bedroom and walked into the living room, grabbing a bottle of Zeke's home-brewed ale while at it. He was not going to face this entire mess sober.

* * *

 

Four hours later and Cole was only slightly buzzed. He glared angrily at the collection of empty bottles strewn about on the table. Either this stuff was defect, or it didn't work on his superhuman ass anymore.

The other bedroom door opened and Zeke approached him, scratching his stomach. “Morn' Cole”, he greeted with a yawn. He paused, eying the bottles. “Uh, not gonna ask- but are you tryin' to get drunk at...” He glanced at the clock on the wall, “Half past six in the morn'?”

“Trying being the operative word”, the courier replied darkly. “Couldn't sleep. Figured if I drink enough I pass out at least.” His expression darkened. “Am only a bit light-headed.”

“Cool”, Zeke said, “You can't get wasted. Awesome.”

“Right now I wish I could”, Cole ground out.

Zeke blinked. “Why? This is awesome! This whole superhero racket, Cole!” He ticked off his fingers. “Solvin' crimes, gettin' some lovin' from the ladies,...” He leaned back, dreamy expression on his face. “I could get used livin' like this.”

Cole furrowed his brows. “You're not actually a superhero, Zeke.” He grumbled. “Neither am I.”

“Hell, I know that”, his roommate replied, “But it doesn't change the fact that I've had a taste of the good life.”

“Having these powers isn't exactly a walk in the park”, the courier snorted. “I have been getting shot at and blown up. I got doused with a mind-controlling tar. A mentally unbalanced woman was trying to rape me while trying to drown me in said tar. I got an entire _tunnel_ thrown at my head, God damnit!” He paused with a deep scowl. “I can't even take a _bath_ without exploding! I'd be better off without them.” The last one had been added as an afterthought. Cole would gladly trade his powers to turn back time so nothing would have happened, but now he had them- and he wasn't fond of the idea of giving them up just like that. He would, if it would be for the best.

Zeke gaped. “Are you crazy? People around here, they worship you, man!”

“Fat lot of good it's done me”, the courier ground out, thinking back to how _disgusted_ he felt when those people at the train thanked him. He fiddled with an empty bottle. “Ever since Archer Square, my head hadn't been silent once”, he muttered. “I had bad dreams, and after meeting the real terrorist, Kessler, I only had nightmares. I _murdered_ a ton of people just to survive.” He paused, then added a bit more silently: “I made a deal with the Devil too.”

“Wow, man. Don't sound so gloom”, Zeke grinned.

Cole grumbled, then eyed the clock, and, unwilling to continue down that thread, changed the topic “Since when do you get up before noon?”

“Ah, well”, his roommate fidgeted. “Well, I met with Dwight's sister, and thought I'd score. But nada.”

“She shot you down.”

“Without me ever gettin' a chance.”

“I told you, you are not what women want, Zeke. You are an idiot- and that repels others.”

“Not you though”

“I am already used to it”, Cole got up from the table. “Sitting around won't do any good though. I'll head back outside, check out the Warren.”

He went into his room and picked up a fresh shirt and jacket. His old one could maybe still be used as a washing rag, but it was no longer in wearable conditions. Cole figured he'd be sacrificing a lot more jackets until this entire mess was over.

He secured his bag and headed to the roof, ringing up Moya. As expected, she was already awake. Only added to his suspicion that she didn't sleep ever.

“Hey Moya”, he greeted her, “I'm making a run on the next substation. _”_

“ _It's location is flagged on your GPS”_ , the DARPA agent masquerading as FBI told him. _“I'm also tracking a couple of new developments. I'll be in touch once the power is back on.”_ She ended the call. Cole did not really like her ordering him around, but until now all he got through this had been more powers. So he was willing to let it slip.

He threw his body off the roof, and created his thrusters to soar over to the train tracks, to slide along them to head over to the Warren. The drawbridge was lowered and there was a thick high-voltage cable suspended between the sides, so it was easy crossing over. There were a lot of people along the bridge, staring at him as he zipped past. Cole had no desire to talk to any of them- he was going to put the energy back online to get more powers out of it. Screw the people.

He hopped off the wire and headed deeper into the Warren, passing by the massive prison complex. He was careful and quickly headed on top of an apartment building- the Dustmen were incredibly dangerous. Maybe even more so than the Reapers. Cole had no desire to constantly battle them, especially not when currently heading into an area without any electricity.

He paused, watching a group of Dustmen below. They were yelling at each other, fingers trembling at the triggers of their rifles. Yesterday they seemed like they could work together well, but now they were trying their best to  _not_ stay any closer to any other.

As if they didn't trust the others to  _not_ turn on them. Cole wondered briefly about this, when he realized that this sort of paranoia might be actually helpful.

He grinned evilly and ducked low, then grabbed a loose piece of rubble. He aimed at one of the Dustmen and chucked the rock with all his strength, hitting the guy in the back.

The man whirled around, ripping his gun up. “What the fuck, man!” He shouted, fingers trembling.

“What's your problem?!” Another yelled back.

“Did you just shove me?!”

“The fuck I did!”

Cole watched how the four Dustmen down there started arguing loudly, neither believing the other's story, before they started to turn violent. The courier inhaled sharply as one started shooting at his buddies, who opened fire on their side. When the dust settled, all four of them were dead.

“Holy shit”, Cole muttered. “That was...evil”

He got up and shook his head. These guys were so incredibly paranoid, that they shot each other, instead of looking for whoever was responsible. Just what in the world could have made them so afraid of  _each other_ ?

Well, at any rate, he now had a way to deal with those brain dead idiots without having to reveal himself, as plain mean as it was.

He swung himself over an AC unit and headed further West, into the powerless area. He headed by a large screen that was still running. It showed the USTV news, and the anchor woman claimed that the president was making a surprise visit to Empire City, to congratulate the army for making the city safe. Cole snorted displeased. Sure. Army.

The only military presence he could see were the guns the gangs used, other than that there wasn't a single shred of uniform nearby. He grit his teeth when his head started to hurt. He had crossed into the blackout, and his body quickly began to weaken. There was no juice around, and, unlike in the Neon, there weren't any working generators either. He dropped to the ground to avoid stumbling off the roof. He had to hurry to find the substation- sewers or not, at least down there was energy for him to take.

Cole blinked to try clearing his vision, and neglected to realize he just ran into trouble.

Five Dustmen whipped around and glared at him.

“That's the guy!” One shouted, “The fucking freak!”

_Shit_ .

Cole flung his body to the side and behind a parked car, praying that none of these idiots had anything larger than an assault rifle. They approached him, trying to take him out, but they did so by charging towards the car in a straight line.

He braced himself against the ground and flung both arms out, smacking the car with his shockwave. The vehicle was send flying, and, according to the startled screams, he must have bowled over at least one of these bastards. The courier dove to the side, then whipped around and lunged at the closest of the Dustmen. He noticed he had smashed two with the car, making the others break away in panic. The single guy he assaulted tried to throw an uppercut into his direction, but Cole easily side-stepped and seized the guy from behind, locking his arms behind him to bodily turn him between himself and the other two, who started shooting.

Cole ducked behind his meat shield, waiting for the shots to taper off, before he dropped the body and started to circle around the other two. They shouted, tried to target him again, but the courier was simply faster. He lined up one hand with them and shot a lightning bolt, hitting one of them square in the face. The man yelled and toppled back, giving Cole enough time to pounce on the other one. It wasn't that he  _enjoyed_ killing- but Dustmen  _did_ deserve it, after all. So he drained the guy, waited for him to stop twitching before he glared at the one he just downed. 

The man was swearing, squirming on the ground. Technically, he could help him. Fix his wounds, or maybe pin him for the cops (if there still were any) to find. But Cole only felt anger boil through his body. Dustmen didn't deserve a shred of mercy. Not when they were happily murdering their way through the Warren. So he lifted his foot and stomped down on the guy's neck, crushing trachea and spine. Bastard had it coming, after all.

Cole snorted and headed out of the parking lot, throwing a glance at another group of Dustmen, who had approached him while fighting. They didn't come any closer, fear rooting them to the ground. They were  _afraid_ of him, and for good reason.

The courier glared at them, before lightning lashed out of his arms and he stomped the ground, doing his best to look like somebody who didn't give a solid damn about any casualties. The Dustmen scrambled away in panic, leaving Cole unharmed. He grunted darkly, then turned around and headed over to a manhole cover. According to Moya, this was the location he needed to be. He opened it easily and jumped down.

Zeke called as Cole jumped and soared over the damaged catwalks.

“ _So I was walkin' over to Trish.”_ He started, _“Help loading up her bus, when I see Dwight's sister hangin' on some other guy's arm. Didn't even look at me.”_

Cole knew he should feel sorry for his roommate, but he just couldn't. So his 'Sorry, man' didn't sound sorry  _at all_ . 

Zeke didn't seem to notice it, though what he said made Cole more alert. Trish was loading up a bus, so she was serious about heading over to the Bayview, then? The place was dangerous.

“Zeke?” He asked, “Could you do me a favor?”

“ _Anything, man”_

“Can you check up on Trish? Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid like heading over to the Bayview without any sort of guard?”

“ _Sure man, can do.”_

“Thanks. Tell her I'll hurry up and get over to her to make sure they get through unhindered.”

“ _Yeah”_

“Thanks.”

He shut his phone off and headed over to the transformer, jumping up and closing the circuit without any second thoughts. The voltage burned through him again, filling up his reserves and unlocking new powers. He could feel it roll through his body in waves, and this feeling remained even after he let go of the restarted transformer.

Motion further down the sewer caught his attention. He glanced at it, recognizing a single Dustman, who was partially hidden behind a chain link fence. He was too far away for Cole to zap and the fence would probably allow for adequate cover as it would dissipate the charge, but with the sniper shot he could get him. He focused for a moment, then threw his hand to the front. Instead of the precise lightning bolt, he created a large orb of energy that shot across through the air. It was slower than his normal bolts, but as he watched it soar in a straight line towards his target, he realized that this thing easily passed through the chain link fence and utterly fried the Dustman, knocking him out.

Cole grinned. Explosive ball lightning. Cool.

He continued his way, frying a few more Dustmen, until one of them actually tried to dive to the side and avoid the orb of crackling static. Cole growled and aimed his hand again, trying to zap him again- when the ball lightning suddenly changed its trajectory and slammed into the guy from the side.

The courier stared for a moment, before his grin widened. Explosive, steerable ball lightnings. He was pretty sure he might just love these things.

However, even with his new power, the sewer was anything but secure. Dustmen lurked everywhere, and unlike the Reapers, they didn't helpfully announce their presence with growls. He had to rely on his radar senses for this one. It wasn't too problematic, though. Just a little increase in difficulty to increase his own abilities. And more power was always preferable.

He found the substation and charged it up, watching how it came to life.

Cole headed back to the surface.

* * *

 

The Dustman was thrashing, whimpering in fear and pleading for his life. Pleas that only met apathy. Alex had heard it so often, had felt the heart rate of his victims spike each time he had his way with them. It was easy pinning them down and consume them, ignoring their screams and attempts at freeing themselves.

The regret about what he'd done only came after consuming, and only when he accidentally got the wrong person or when somebody was watching he didn't want to know. But most of the time, all Alex felt was satisfaction. Of being whole again, of learning what he needed to know.

And this guy here had just told him a lot.

Alex had managed to pin down the exact genetic code that made this guy a conduit, and it was exactly the same kind that also coded for the Reaper conduit's abilities. However, as it was, it made no great difference to Blacklight. It was a single gene, only a few dozen bases, and alone it didn't mean anything to him. On its own it wasn't much more than trash, and Blacklight didn't operate on trash. His constant adapting and streamlining of his own genetic code removed anything that had no use to him, including the conduit gene. He had tried it, a few times, to actively keep it in his own coding, had even changed into the original owner and tried to copy the  _entire_ genetic code, but he didn't manage to activate teleportation or telekinesis. Bummer, he  _really_ wanted to be able to move things with his mind. But maybe...maybe there was a trigger in the man's life that allowed him to gain his powers.

The blast that allowed MacGrath to gain his abilities- was it responsible for the Dustman's too? That was easy to answer, all Alex had to do was delve into his memories and find out  _when_ exactly he gained his powers.

His name was of no great importance, but his history, especially the last three weeks, were interesting. He had lived on the streets, until the day of the Blast. After that, the old man who had been on the street forever, Alden Tate, approached him and the others, displaying terrifying telekinetic powers- and took them in. Six days after the blast and the Dustman started exhibiting telekinetic powers himself.

Alex frowned. He assumed that the blast itself activated the powers of the conduits, but now it appeared as if this one Dustman Conduit had gained his abilities nearly a week  _after_ the event.

However...He inclined his head, eyes blank as he searched through his memories for those of another Dustman conduit. This guy too had gained his powers  _days_ after the blast that activated the courier as conduit.

Was there a difference between the three of them?

Definitely. First of all, there was the time difference. MacGrath and Tate both exhibited powers almost immediately after the blast, and Alex assumed this was also the case with this Sasha.

Second, while the Dustmen and Reaper conduits were quite tougher than normal humans, they still weren't as tough as MacGrath. And that meant they were far less powerful.

Third, the courier displayed a  _wide_ variety of powers, all of them similar in nature, but different in execution, while the Reapers and Dustmen only had one or two variations. Alex assumed that either the Dustmen and Reapers lacked in imagination, or their abilities had been restricted from the beginning.

Which brought him to number four: Alex hadn't seen any other conduit having the same powers as MacGrath had. He also hadn't noticed any more spread of the tar since Sasha had been taken out, meaning that both of them were unique. However, the other conduits running about, all of them had  _the same_ powers- every Reaper conduit could teleport and create shockwaves, while every Dustman conduit had telekinetic abilities...

Alex's eyes narrowed. The Dustmen had telekinetic powers...just like Alden Tate, only not on his level.

He turned around, glaring at the roofs of the Warren. He already had an idea, though he needed more information to clarify this. Point number five still eluded him, but he knew how to remedy that. The courier just had to play along.

The Blacklight Runner headed over to the Stone Canal Drawbridge, which was already in use. Most people tried to leave the Warren, but he saw some of the militia he helped build up and some of the remaining cops heading into the slums, to take care of the Dustmen. It appeared he had been wrong about humans then- sometimes they  _did_ think of others and weren't just cowering in the shade. Or maybe they've seen that the gangs controlling their lives weren't all powerful and could be beaten back. This wasn't Manhattan- their foes were  _human_ after all. Alex's nose twitched and his brows drew together.

This sharp smell of ozone- there was only one reason for it. The courier was already about and had passed across the bridge not too long ago. All the Runner had to do was to follow the scent. It lead in a straight line towards the north-western part of the Warren. The part that was still without electricity. Alex landed atop a derelict apartment building and pushed off in one, fluent motion. The windows still rattled from the power of his impact, and some of the plaster had come off, but nobody ever seemed to notice.

Better for him, because the night before he had revealed a bit too much of himself. These kind of things weren't all too helpful if one was actually trying to hide, but he just couldn't say 'no'. That would have been a  _dick move_ and Alex wasn't the one to let others down. Especially not if they asked him to help, and not if he was actively trying to get the one who asked to get to work together.

Plus, in the end it had worked out and he did feel a lot better after smashing a bunch of Dustmen and Reapers into the ground.

Alex dug his heels into the roof he was one, skidding to a stop. The massive billboard in front of him just came to life. He threw a glance over his shoulder, realizing that all over the place the electricity went back online. MacGrath's work, no doubt.

He did work quite fast.

The Runner inhaled the air, picking up the trail of ozone before heading down to the street. He quickly made his way over to the manhole cover that smelt most of the courier, careful to not leave behind a trail of potholes, when the cover already slipped open. Alex stopped, just in time to see MacGrath climb out of the sewer to stretch and inhale the fresh air. He couldn't blame him. The smell of sewage that still clung to the courier made his nose scrunch up in distaste- and Alex did have a keener sense than most other living beings. But, unlike those, he was also able to deconstruct his own olfactory sensors and disable his sense of smell. It was a trick he learnt in Manhattan while hunting for Redlight. The infection had retreated into the sewers and steam tunnels beneath the city- and Alex had chased it down.

He cleared his throat, announcing his presence. The courier turned around, blinking for a second to work his brain, before he exhaled in annoyance. Alex didn't let him speak, but rather just held out his hand, palm up and flexing his fingers.  _Hand your phone over._

MacGrath scowled, but complied anyways. He plucked his phone off the strap of his bag and dropped it into Alex's hand. The Runner shoved it into the pockets of his jeans, dragging it into his Biomass once out of sight to smother any and all sounds from the outside.

“What do you want?” MacGrath wanted to know.

“Information”, Alex replied coolly, gesturing for the other to follow him away from the street. “I am trying to figure those conduit abilities out”, he added, which gained him the courier's full attention.

“And what have you discovered?”

“All in time, MacGrath”, the Blacklight Prototype pointed out. “First, answer me a question. What kind of powers did Sasha have?”

The courier frowned for a moment. “Just that? Uh” He scratched the back of his head. “She produced that tar. Like, it was rushing through her body. Guess it replaced her blood or something.”

Alex paused. “So that's where the stuff came from.” He inclined his head. “What else?”

The courier shrugged. “She could teleport around, as long she had contact to the tar. Create tentacles that had weird orbs atop them, hallucinations, shockwaves...”

The Runner frowned. “Teleportation and shockwaves- like her Reaper conduits?”

The courier's brows arched up slightly. “Yeah. I thought this was weird, but then assumed that shockwaves and teleportation were pretty common. I mean,  _I_ can create shockwaves too, and Kessler was able to teleport.”

“Kessler?” Alex cut him off. “He's a conduit too?”

“Guess so”, MacGrath grumbled with a dark expression. “Though that means that suddenly _everybody_ is a frickin' conduit. 'cept Zeke maybe.”

“I don't think it's that easy”, Alex denied that notion.

“No?”

“Look- I'll need something from you”, he tried to reason. “Something you'd probably not give me just like that if I ask.”

The courier inhaled sharply and glanced over his shoulder, glaring at the dirty walls and dumpsters around, before he turned towards him with a scowl. “Look, man. If you want to kill me, I'm going to kick your ass so hard you'll won't ever feel anything other than  _pain_ again.” He paused, expression twisting into something even darker. “And there's no chance I'm gonna bend over for you, hear me?”

“Blood”, Alex cut him off exaggerated. “I need a bit of blood.”

The courier blinked confused. “What for?”

“My abilities”, the Runner explained, he was aware he had to share his secrets with the other man sooner or later, though until now the guy didn't need to know too much. However, he had to throw the guy a bone to smother the curiosity. “Part of them are to figure out the genetic structure. I want to know what makes you different from those conduits running around. And for that, I'll need a sample of your DNA.”

The courier furrowed his brows. “That's it?”

“You'll just hold still. It shouldn't hurt too much.”

“I'm not convinced”, MacGrath grumbled, though he was still taking off one glove and rolled up his sleeve. “Don't rip off my arm, or I will murder you.”

Alex's lips twitched upwards, as he changed one hand into his massive claws. “You're still playing along.”

“Yeah. I have a shit-load of questions myself, and you're probably the only one willing to give me answers.”

Alex grunted in acknowledgment, then carefully dragged his metal nails across the courier's palm, easily slicing through his skin. The courier winced, but didn't pull his hand away to let him finish.

He did jerk back his hand once Alex let got of him, cradling it against his chest. Lightning lashed out of his skin, knitting the wound back together, while Alex inspected the trail of red along his talons. Tendrils rose from his skin, licking up the blood, much to the surprise of the courier. The Runner focused on the new batch of genetic information, changing his hand back into its normal shape.

That, that was exactly what he needed.

MacGrath's DNA wasn't too different from any other human, but there was a large change in his so-called 'junk' DNA. The conduit gene he had isolated from the Reapers and Dustmen was different in the courier. Cole's was  _larger_ , containing more bases. But, after a short test, it was still not suited for Alex to generate his own lightning, even after adding it to his genetic code. He could figure out the reason later.

“And?” The courier asked carefully, eyes on the tendrils flicking lazily over Alex's body. 

“Now I know that you are different to those other conduits”, the Runner explained.

“In how far?” The other was curious. Alex did understand him, because now there was someone who finally could give him some insight on what was going on. He briefly wished he had somebody like that back in Manhattan, but all he had were more questions and a fuck-load of idiots trying to kill him.

“You and those Reapers and Dustmen- you have what Moya calls a 'conduit gene'.”

“She told me that much.” MacGrath answered. “Though...she was surprised when I told her about meeting the first Reaper Conduit.”

“That's because you have additional bases to your conduit gene, bases the others are _missing_. The larger amount of those bases are also the reason they could figure you were a conduit, and not the others. The current detection possibilities _are_ restricted, after all.”

“What?” MacGrath frowned. “Moya did mention something of the kind...” He paused, expression turning into a confused scowl. “Wait, you want to tell me I'm the freak amongst freaks?”

“Not really. You are...more of a prime conduit”, Alex explained. “You are a superior specimen, compared to those lesser conduits.” He crossed his arms, glancing at the courier. “Didn't you wonder just _why_ there is no-one else around having your electrokinetic powers? Or Sasha's tar-based powers?”

“I did”, Cole frowned. His eyes widened slightly. “Wait. Sasha and the Reapers...they have shockwave-based powers, and teleport powers.” He locked gazes with Alex. “Alden, do you know what he can do?”

“Telekinesis”, Alex explained. MacGrath nodded, eyebrows drawing together.

“His conduits can move things with their minds too...does that mean that...these _lesser_ conduits are depending on a _supreme_ conduit's powers?”

The Runner smirked. “That is exactly what I thought.” He pointed at the courier. “You, Alden, Sasha. You have gotten your powers from the blast. And  _only_ you. However, days later the other conduits started to display theirs, but only  _after_ having grouped together with Alden and/or Sasha. And that means, closer vicinity to a prime conduit allows lesser conduits to 'inherit' some of their abilities, something they wouldn't manage without help. This also means that a lesser conduit could, technically, display any sort of power, unlike you, who only has one.”

MacGrath's expression darkened instantly. “So that's where Moya comes from”, he growled. “Because I could almost literally  _create_ more conduits, I would make a perfect  _weapon_ .” His eyes widened, then narrowed. “Shit. They could make  _me_ the leader of a near-endless amount of super-powered soldiers!”

“Exactly.” Another guy made into a weapon by the government feeding them lies. Alex scowled deeply at that idea. No, they couldn't allow this to happen. They had to end this entire thing before it became irreversible. The easiest way would be to kill MacGrath and all the other prime conduits, find and destroy the Ray Sphere and then continue with Moya and the entire DARPA. Easy for Blacklight, though he would blow his cover that way.

But Alex would  _not_ sink to this low. No. He and the courier were going to work  _together_ to stop this entire mess and drag out everybody who had their hands in this. If there was going to be a shitstorm, they could use it as cover and duck out of sight, while the public tore those responsible to shreds.

“What do you suggest?” The courier asked, expression grim.

“It's not going to be easy”, Alex replied. It would be tough getting close to whoever was responsible, mostly because they had learnt from Manhattan and had adapted their tactics. None of the foot soldiers ever met their direct superiors face-to-face, and Alex was willing to bet those didn't meet their superiors either. They split the chain of command, transferred all communication to electronics. It was more elaborate and costly than what he was used to, but incredibly efficient to prevent people like him from simply chewing their way through their organization. This new tactic required more observation and stealth from him, and wasted more time. Time they could use to regroup.

To get all of them, Alex had to start from the top. With Moya.

“I know how to get these fucks off your back”, he explained slowly, “Make sure they don't hound you. However”, he exhaled. “I don't know how to get them to _drop_ their cover. Not yet, anyways.” He glanced at the courier, who was still waiting for the punchline. “You, MacGrath- you are the one Moya's keeping her eyes on.”

“And?”

“No matter what you know, you have to keep working for her, try to keep her blind to what we are really doing”, the Runner told him. “However, this is only until we know where the Ray Sphere is. Once you have it, once it is destroyed, Moya's not going to have any power left over you. And then you and I will make sure that all information gets into the world wide web, to clear your name and make sure Empire does not become a second Manhattan.”

“She's going to sic her guys on my ass.”

“Hopefully”, Alex replied. “Because then I have the chance to get to her, and rip this snake's head right off.” He rolled his shoulders. “It's risky, I admit, but so far it is the best option I see.”

The courier frowned, glancing back over his shoulder a few times until his face set into a determined scowl. “I'm in”, he said. “But only on one condition: You have to make sure that neither I nor any of my friends have to suffer from Moya's revenge once she notices what's up.”

Alex arched his eyebrows. “I can make sure of that”, he assured him. Blacklight was going to keep his word. No matter what.

“Good”, the courier exhaled slowly. “Then it's a deal.” His eyes narrowed. “Just so we're clear- I'm doing this to piss off Moya, to clear my name and make sure these idiots know who they're dealing with.” He jabbed his finger at Alex. “You- you are just means to this end, got it? I still hate your guts.”

“Same here”, the Runner replied. “I will not hesitate to tear you to shreds should I ever figure out that you betrayed me.” He paused, feeling the courier's phone ring. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket.

“ _Good work, Cole”_ , Moya claimed, seemingly unaware that she wasn't currently talking to the courier, but rather to the Terrorist of Manhattan _“But there is more trouble going on.”_

The courier took his phone from the Blacklight Prototype and clicked the reply button. “What kind of trouble?”

“ _I've been receiving reports of unauthorized drones patrolling the Warren.”_ Alex furrowed his brows, eyes turning narrow. Damnit, that woman really had her spies everywhere. But...who were they? Where were they? He couldn't just start chewing his way through the civilians to hope he got lucky. Fuck it, this whole mess was starting to grow over his head. He should _really_ leave the city as soon as possible. But...he just couldn't leave Empire behind. He wasn't finished here. He had to end this, had to get to Moya and whoever else was responsible, before they could come after him.

The DARPA agent continued talking, giving the courier his new orders.  _“Since they're not ours, you should look into them.”_ She paused and her voice turned slightly more curious.  _“I'm also hearing rumors of the Dustmen planning to break through the quarantine. However, I know nothing more about it at the moment. I'll stay in contact, but for now, check out those drones, Cole.”_

“Got it”

“ _One other thing”_ , Moya added, sounding annoyed. _“Tell your friend Zeke to stop calling me.”_

MacGrath's eyebrows shot up, level with his hairline, as he sent a surprised stare at Alex. His expression just screamed 'Zeke? What the Heck is he doing?' Moya made a disgruntled noise.  _“If he wants to play hero and track down 'leads', that's his business. But I don't need to hear about this.”_

She cut the connection, while MacGrath stared at his phone. “Zeke?” He muttered, “What the Hell are you doing?”

“Hope he doesn't do anything stupid”, Alex supplied with a low pitch. A Dustman to the side caught his attention, and he lunged at the man before MacGrath even realized what was going on, and swiftly dragged him out of sight before consuming him. He wasn't that hungry, but that guy could have been a scout for a larger group of them, so knowing what he knew would be useful. His eyes widened as soon the man's memories settled.

This- this was all kinds of wrong!

“MacGrath!” He barked, shooting back around the corner and not caring in the least whether Moya could hear him or not. He could pretend he was a random civilian who tried to help, after all. “There's trouble!”

The courier blinked confused. He craned his neck, trying to find the guy he just squashed into a wall, as if to ask 'Where is he?'.

“The Dustmen have _hostages_ ”, the Runner growled, “Loaded on boats. They hope to use them as meat shields to break through the quarantine.”

He started jogging towards the closest dock. The courier fell in behind him, voice still disbelieving. “Wait- how the heck do you know that?”

“Not important right now. Just trust me on this.” Alex snarled as he reviewed the plans of the Dustmen. “They think they can make the military back down when they use civilians as shields. But this will only end in a tragedy.”

MacGrath's eyes narrowed as he hurried to catch up with the older man. “Let me guess- the guys with the guns aren't going to play ball?”

“In case of a city-wide quarantine, the military has standing shoot-on-sight orders. Anyone trying to break through will be gunned down, no questions asked. Happened in Manhattan” He growled in his low pitch again. If Moya heard his voice, she wasn't supposed to know _more_ . “We still have some time, but if any of those boats leave, a lot of innocent people are going to die.” Not that he gave a shit about people, but these people had been pressed into this. It hadn't been _their_ choice. Unlike the guys at the Stampton Bridge, who went on from their own free will, the guys on those boats had no saying in that matter. 

The courier gave off an abortive snort, then placed his hand over his phone to muffle it. “Okay, I don't want their blood on my hands- but what does this has to do with us?”

Alex stopped, glancing at him. “The main problem is, if they try to break the quarantine, then the upper echelons will see that your friend Moya's not suited for this situation- and they will replace her.”

MacGrath's eyes widened. “Shit”, he hissed. “And Moya or not- she's the only one we actually  _want_ in charge, right?”

“Correct”, Alex replied darkly. “And despite her being a proper bitch, until now there were no larger problems with her. But I know DARPA- if they replace her, they will send in someone less concerned about casualties. They would _erase_ Empire City to draw the Ray Sphere out.” Maybe even nuke the city. Alex didn't want to believe that they'll resort to that again, but after Manhattan...nothing seemed certain anymore. No. Moya was their best bet at the moment. The less people knew what was going on, the better for him.

“Ah shit”, MacGrath exhaled annoyed. “So Moya's the lesser evil then?”

“Sadly, yes.” Alex jerked his head over his shoulder. “Come. There's a dock nearby. I need to grab me another Dustman for more information. You make sure the hostages get free.”

The courier opened his mouth, the question just  _what exactly_ he meant was clearly on his expression. But then he clapped his jaw shut and swallowed, obviously deciding he  _did not_ want to know. “Alright”, he said instead. “Let's get them out of there.”

The two of them approached the dock and the storage building, Alex being careful to not grow his claws in the broad daylight, but since he already displayed his inhuman strength the night before, he didn't see too much harm pulping the Dustmen otherwise. He rushed to the front, swallowing up the bullets from two turrets and shielding the courier from their fire. MacGrath jumped towards them from behind him and fried the two Dustmen operating the machine gun turrets, before he grabbed the guns and sent enough voltage through them to blow them up.

“More on the roof!” He barked.

“Got them”, Alex acknowledged. “You take the guys on the ground.”

“On it.” The courier dashed around the corner of the storage, while Alex coiled his muscles and released them, catapulting himself off the ground and right over the roof. A couple of Dustmen whirled around, startled, and Alex wasted no more time. He angled his body and pushed off the air, shooting downwards with one foot outstretched. He hit the first of the Dustmen, killing him instantly and using his momentum to grind the body over the roof, leaving behind a trail of blood. He lunged at the other two Dustmen and easily subdued them, then consumed both of them for information. The location of the boats flashed through his mind, making him realize that all of them were in a more or less straight line along the shore. Good.

Alex grunted and headed to the edge of the roof, watching how MacGrath took out the Dustmen below. He was fast, and lethal. His lightning bolts had become more powerful since last time- and there were the occasional lightning grenades and exploding ball lightnings he generated and shot at his foes. Truly impressive, though Alex couldn't help but wonder where the courier's limits were.

As the last of the Dustmen went down, MacGrath doubled over, panting. Alex furrowed his brows and stepped off the roof, heading downwards.

“Everything alright?”

“Just need some juice”, MacGrath replied. He inhaled once to get back upright, before he headed to a nearby fuse box to drain it. The Runner watched without saying anything, but he could smell the scent of ozone becoming stronger, and he heard the man's pulse calm down.

He had already noticed the man needed to drain energy from somewhere else to power his attacks- he'd seen it in the Jefferson Tunnel, after all, but it appeared he only grew stronger the more he drained. Strangely, his body did not produce enough energy to keep his powers active itself.

Alex couldn't help but smile lop-sided as he realized how similar both of them were. He too needed a source of energy to use his attacks, though in his case that energy came through the Biomass he consumed. But he too was unable to function on his own reserves- he had to get Biomass elsewhere- pretty much like the courier. Except he consumed electricity instead of people.

MacGrath exhaled with a groan and rolled his neck, before he headed towards the boat. Alex glanced at the engine, then turned to the younger man. “You fry the engine. Make sure they can't use this boat anymore.” He nodded towards the cage containing several frightened civilians. “I take them.”

“On it”, the courier acknowledged. 

He charged up, releasing massive bolts of lightning. The engine sputtered a few times, then started to creak. Smoke billowed up, seconds before there was a small explosion that took out most of its functional pieces.

Alex smirked and easily wrenched the iron gates out of the cage, releasing the people inside.

The people stared at them, before they rushed out, spluttering their thanks as they ran away and into secure areas.

“Where to now?”

“Further down the shore”, Alex told him. “There are at least three more boats.” He paused, eyes narrowing on the horizon where several military-looking ships were anchored. “These guys over there don't look like they'll wait forever.”

MacGrath scowled. “Let's roll”

* * *

 

They had managed to destroy the other boats and release the hostages quickly enough, with Moya calling once to remind them to move their asses. The way she said it- ass _es_ instead of  _ass_ \- indicated she knew there were  _two_ of them. Alex had nearly thrown a fit, but realized that until now she had  _no_ idea who the second guy was. MacGrath never told her anything, didn't even admit or deny that he had help, so maybe he could still salvage things there.

Alex was aware it had been his own fault she knew that much- after all, the way he communicated with MacGrath was certainly suspicious, but he still didn't raise his voice any more to avoid that woman getting any more data on him. It pained him she knew that much, but there wasn't anything to be done here.

He had to get to her, better sooner than later.

“What now?” MacGrath asked, slightly out of breath from constantly running and frying people. They had been going all over the Southern Warren, had battled their way through hordes of Dustmen, and even defeated a couple of conduits while at it.

Alex didn't answer, was watching a single cop who just brought the hostages to safety instead. Huh. That was the first police officer he'd seen in weeks, asides from the few this morning.

The man paused, then approached the two of them.

“Folks been telling me you've been the heroes of the hour, right?” He asked. Alex frowned at him, the effect diluted by him not wearing his hood and usual getup, though he did get his message over clearly enough. The cop turned to MacGrath instead, expecting an answer.

The courier rubbed the back of his head. “Uh. Yeah.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Listen- the stuff about me being a terrorist? That's bullcrap. I'm a  _courier_ , I didn't even know what I was transporting.”

The policeman lifted his hand. “I know. We pulled a few of your files up. Asides from minor delinquencies, you're clean.”

The courier exhaled in relief. “Good to know”

“Yeah. Warden Harms believes in your work too, kid”, the cop added. “If you have time, you should meet with him.”

“I will.”

The cop pulled off, leaving the two of them alone. The courier paused, then switched on his phone.

“Hey Trish”, he said in a soothing tone. “How's the hospital looking?”

“ _The outside is pretty trashed”_ , she explained, _“But the inside is in surprisingly good shape. I've already moved a couple busloads of people over there.”_

The courier inhaled sharply. “Trish!” He more or less barked in a worried tone, “That's dangerous!”

“ _Relax. We had the militia come with us and it had been calm mostly. Reapers haven't noticed us yet and the Dustmen seemed distracted.”_

“Don't...don't do that again”, MacGrath mumbled. “Please. Just wait until I'm there.”

“ _Don't worry, we're almost finished anyways.”_ The nurse's tone changed. _“Also, I've been thinking that we should sit down and talk sometime, figure out what happens once all of this is over.”_

“Sure”, the courier agreed all too quickly, “Whatever you want.”

“ _I'll talk to you later.”_

MacGrath ended the call, then caught the glare the Runner was sending into his direction. “What?!” He bit out, “Can't a guy do something about the woman he loves?”

“I was going to mention that there were still spy drones to take care of”, Alex deadpanned. “I don't care what or who you do in your free time, but right now, there's a job to do.”

“Oh”, the courier blinked. “Right.” he looked around, as if hoping to see one of these mysterious drones, before he checked up on his phone. Sure enough, Moya did mark the area the UAVs were most likely in.

As they made their way over, Moya called again.  _“We just caught a big break”_ , she announced.  _“One of the UAVs patrolling the Warren has crashed.”_

“And?”

“ _Recover its flight recorder, and I'll try to figure out who's controlling them.”_

Alex turned, eyes flitting into the infrared spectrum. He could see the drone easily enough- its heated engine setting it apart from the cooler surface it was on. “Over there”, he mentioned. MacGrath nodded and hurried over.

The drone was a simple plane-like object, resembling a  _MQ1 Reaper_ , though it was only half its size.

“Found it”, the courier supplied as they approached the crashed UAV.

“ _Use your phone to send me the contents of the flight recorder”_ , Moya ordered. Alex cleared his throat.

“It won't work”, he stated, “Your phone's bandwidth isn't enough.” He paused, brows drawn together. “However, you can store the data, then we'll need to improve the transmitter strength to make it happen.”

“Ookay”, the courier frowned. “Guess I can do that.”

Alex knelt down next to the drone and pulled out his own phone, using it to copy off the data himself. “We can't let Moya have all the information”, he muttered, eyebrows furrowing as he scanned the streams of numbers running over his screen. “Huh. Those things belong to the First Sons”, he realized. “To search for the Ray Sphere. Looks like they narrowed it down to this area.”

“Shit. They know anything we don't?”

“Doesn't look that way”, Alex replied. “If they knew, they wouldn't use drones to scan the area. However, it gives us a good chance: They are searching for it, meaning they don't have the Sphere themselves. And we know it's probably not in the Neon- which leaves the Warren.”

“Okay. Find the drones, shoot them down. Get the data off them and then figure out how to get the information over to Moya. Something else?”

“Yeah. The drones are programmed to self-destruct in case they're damaged”, the Runner stated. “We just have to get to them after picking them out of the sky.”

“No pressure there”, MacGrath shrugged. He paused, frowning. “Uh- I and explosives don't exactly mix, so what if I blow up these things accidentally?”

“That's why I will take them down”, Alex explained. “You just have to get to it before it blows.”

“Sounds easy enough then. Let's go.”

They headed out of the embark point they found the first drone in and went down the street for a block or so, until the Blacklight Prototype stopped, eyes focusing on the sky.

A second drone soared over them.

“Gotcha”, MacGrath growled. 

“Hurry”, Alex muttered. He quickly looked around, checking the area with his thermal scan to make sure they were alone. Then he shifted to his Whipfist and coiled his muscles. He jumped off the ground, screwing his body higher as the ground spiralled away beneath him. The drone passed by him, but not fast enough to avoid the lethal tentacle of barbed spikes and hardened Biomass.

These things broke just as easily as the viral scanners. The drone gave off a metallic shriek as it dropped downwards, Alex's attack having taken out its wings and engine. He saw the courier hurry off to the crash point to wait for the thing to come down, so he would be there first. Alex let him, focusing on gliding after the dropping drone to avoid cratering.

They both got the data off the flight recorder, then headed deeper into the Warren to look for the next UAVs. They found the next one- and a group of Dustmen.

MacGrath didn't bother slowing down as he lunged at the mobsters, unleashing lightning bolts to down them. Alex let him have them, though he did stop to glance at the drone. It was moving away from them. He could probably jump up there and try to take it out, but that would be a bit suspicious after the first one.

A Dustman conduit jumped at them, trying to ambush them. Alex smirked.  _Perfect_ .

He pounced at the guy, arms shifting to his Musclemass as he seized him. The man jerked back, swearing as he tried to free himself, but he wasn't strong enough.

“Heads up”, Alex called out, then hauled his arm back and chucked the Dustman with all his might skywards- hitting and downing the UAV.

MacGrath stared at him with his jaw hanging open, as if meaning to say 'Did you really just take down a drone with a  _guy_ ?!' Alex shrugged. “The drone”, he reminded the courier. “Before it goes up.”

The younger stared at him, then threw his arms up in defeat and headed to where the drone crashed.

They quickly found a third drone, but this time MacGrath was faster. He aimed and shot several lightning bolts at the rear-mounted propeller to fry it and drop the UAV. It crashed into the street and slid over the ground to stop just a few yards away from them.

“For future references”, the courier mumbled as he pulled the data off the recorder, “I can zap them too. And I don't need to throw people at them.”

Alex shrugged. “Nobody was around to witness it anyways and I  _really_ missed throwing stuff at airborne targets.”

“You are seriously screwed up in your head, you know that?”

“I know.”

They found the last drone just three blocks further North, and downed it as well.

“Any left?” The courier asked. The Runner glanced around, then shook his head. “None, as far I can tell.” He frowned. “I guess the First Sons are not going to be happy, though. These drones don't come cheap.”

The courier was fiddling with his phone. “God. You were right. The bandwidth isn't enough. Damnit.”

“You'll need a satellite uplink”, Alex figured. He paused, searching through his brain. “The Coleridge building should have an antenna that suits these needs.”

“Really?” The younger drawled out. “And you know how this works? Because I don't.”

“Not my strong point, I admit, but what I know should suffice. If it works, that is.”

“And if not?”

The older exhaled. “We'll worry about that one later on.”

The courier frowned. “Wait, Coleridge is right in Dustmen territory.”

“It is. I hope you are ready for some tough battles.”

“Oh to Hell with that. These bastards had it coming, after all. Nobody gets to shoot me on my watch.”

“I like your attitude.”

The courier grinned. “Who defeats most wins.”

He charged to the front, unleashing lightning around his arms and shoulders as he barelled right into the Dustmen territory. Alex followed at a slower pace, though he kept the other in his line of vision. He was extremely good, easily able to take out any and all opposition even before they managed to get their bearings together.

As the courier found the octagonal tower of the Coleridge building, Alex sped up and caught up to him, then easily sprinted past him and up to the roof while the younger climbed along the wall, latching onto window sills and cracks in the stone.

When he pulled himself over the edge, Alex had already located the satellite dish and had found the control panel. He motioned for the phone.

The courier handed it over, allowing Alex to connect it to the satellite and boost it.

The data they recovered from the UAVs was send off.

“Okay Moya”, MacGrath began as soon he got his phone back, “You should have everything.”

“ _And you didn't even ask me how. Impressive”_ , The woman replied. _“It's going to take a while to sort through all of this. I'll let you know if I find anything of interest.”_

MacGrath scoffed. “Just find that damn Ray Sphere, so I can get out of this shooting gallery.” To emphasize his point, he pulled at his jacket, fingering the multiple holes in it.

“ _Why don't you just ask your friend then?”_ , Moya mentioned coolly. The way she said this made Alex's hair stand on end. _“The guy who's been helping you?”_ Her voice picked up. _“You know, I am aware you're there, and you're listening. So how about you pick up your voice and talk to me, ZEUS?”_

 

 


	15. Alden strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now shit's going to hit the fan, and Cole's right in the middle. His life sucks.

**Alden Strikes**

 

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!_

Alex stared at the phone, rage and fear mingling inside and rolling in waves of hot and cold through his whole body.  _ZEUS_ . The name Blackwatch had given  _him_ . A name that usually meant scores upon scores of Blackwatch gunships racing through the sky, tanks rolling through the streets and thousands of soldiers in black gunning down everything in sight.

And that  _woman_ just casually mentioned that name.

She  _knew_ . She knew he was here.

Alex snarled and stepped back, unsure what to do now. He had fucked up big time, and that meant he had to get Dana and relocate. But the city was in lockdown and there was a powerful weapon just within their reach, a weapon these bastard shouldn't have.

He couldn't just  _leave_ , not with everything going to shit. It wasn't  _his_ problem, but he couldn't run away like a coward. Not when they already knew.

He growled under his breath, and the courier backed off with a startled expression.

“ _I don't care what you think”_ , Moya's cold voice cut in. _“I know you are there, ZEUS.”_ Alex growled again, back bristling with tendrils, but he didn't move. Ripping apart the phone wouldn't salvage the situation anyways. _“I've seen the mess you caused three days ago. Could have been somebody else, I admit, but I was pretty certain. However, until now, it is only I who is aware of your presence”_ , Moya continued with a firm voice. _“At the moment, I am also alone, so we can talk without others bothering us.”_

“What do you want, Moya?” Alex snarled, his voice partially mingled with the voices of several others, but, at the very least, audible through the phone.

“ _Lose that attitude”_ , the agent ordered coolly. _“Unless you want me to get into contact with General Rooks of Blackwatch and summon them on your ass.”_

“They would glass the city”, the Runner snapped, “You know this!”

“ _I am aware”_ , Moya commented. _“Which is why I am not going to do this. However”_

MacGrath shuffled his feet, glancing between his phone and the raging viral entity across from him.  _“If I fail to contact my superiors on a regular interval, the entire data on my computer will be send to them- including what I found about you.”_ She paused for a moment.  _“Same goes for when any of my men sees you within a three-hundred yard radius around my position. See it as a last-ditch-effort. An insurance.”_

“What do you want?”, Alex repeated, eyes narrow.

“ _First off- I am not Blackwatch. They want you dead, I see your capabilities if you remain alive, ZEUS.”_ The Runner growled under his breath, but didn't say anything to allow the woman to continue. _“I see, you understand.”_ It was easy imagining the smirk on her face. _“Now- if you want this to remain that way, you will listen, and you will listen well.”_

Alex pulled his lips away in an angry snarl. “Just tell me.”

“ _The Ray Sphere”_ , Moya commented dryly. _“You will find the Ray Sphere. Help Cole, do it yourself- I don't care. If you find it, and bring it to me, I will make sure Blackwatch won't figure out where you are.”_

Alex's eyes narrowed. As if. He knew people like Moya. She would use him, then feed him to Blackwatch once she had what she wanted. He had to get to her before that.

“Why should I do this?” He snarled furiously. “You'll let me run into the fire as soon you have that fucking Sphere.”

“ _Well, if there isn't somebody slightly pissed.”_

“I know about you, Moya. You are with DARPA. You want to make the Sphere into a weapon. Fuck, you want the conduits too.”

“ _You belong to DARPA too, ZEUS”_ , Moya reminded him. _“An asset, so to speak.”_

“Screw you”, the Runner snarled hatefully. “I will not help you or anybody else.”

“ _Really?”_ The woman snorted amused. _“Well, in that case I'm going to need having a few words with Ms. Dana Mercer, won't I?”_

Alex's back went ramrod straight, and his eyes widened. “You wouldn't dare”, he hissed.

“ _Really?”_ , the woman hummed. _“She has blonde hair now, hasn't she?”_

“You wouldn't fucking dare!”

“ _I won't have to resort to this if you play along, ZEUS”_ , Moya claimed. _“You get me the Ray Sphere, you can go home without any problems and stay with your sister, and I won't have to call for these bastards either. Every one of us will win.”_

Alex swore under his breath, switching languages when he ran out of words.

“ _Well, I don't expect an answer so soon, ZEUS. But remember: I hold all the cards.”_ Moya cut the connection.

“Fuck!” Alex swore, running his hand through his hair while trying very hard not to snap. The courier shuffled his feet again, rubbing the back of his head and looking _very_ awkward. It was clear he never wanted to be around for this particular conversation.

“Uh-” He swallowed, “Sorry about this?” It looked like he didn't know what to say, but felt obliged to say _something_. Alex's head snapped towards him, eyes narrowing. The courier shrank back. “Hey- don't maim me, okay?”

The Runner inhaled sharply, suppressing the urge to shred something. It wasn't the courier's fault after all- it was his. Damnit. Alex snarled, clenching his fists at his sides.

“Fuck this”, he ground out, “How did she know? I was supposed to be dead.” During the second outbreak, Blackwatch had learn he had actually survived the nuke, but Cross had always informed him about where they were looking for him if he was seen, so he and Dana could go into the opposite direction. But outside of Blackwatch, _nobody_ knew he was alive. Even the Marines who had been present during the second outbreak as well had no idea. So how in the blazes did that woman figure out it was him? There hadn't been any witnesses around to his normal powers, and he had been careful about who saw him when he was in his usual shape with the hoodie and jacket. He didn't trust what she said. As far as he knew, she was just stalling him to allow Blackwatch getting into position. He had no idea.

“Fuck”, he groused again. “I-gotta leave”, he snarled. “Have to find Dana.”

The courier frowned. “Dana...your sister?”

“Yes. I have to make sure that bitch doesn't get to her.” Shit. He needed more information.

“Okay. Uh- see you later?”

He scoffed and pushed off the roof, shooting through the air. He had to get to Dana. There were probably more pressing matters, but this was important now.

Alex had already crossed about four to five blocks, when he skidded to a stop, eyes wide. Shit, how could he forget?  _Cross!_ Cross would be able to tell!

He plucked his phone from his Biomass and picked the Specialist's number, and let it ring once. Calling him was too dangerous, but if he just rung him up, he'd know he wanted to talk to him.

The Blackwatch Captain called back almost immediately.

“ _Mercer? What the fuck do you want?”_

“Cross”, the Runner replied. “I fucked up. _Again_.”

There was a sharp silence.  _“How?”_

“I don't know! Thought I was careful enough, but this bitch figured me out”, Alex exhaled. “Moya Jones, does this mean anything to you?”

“ _Jones...Moya Jones...”_ , The older man snorted. _“Proper bitch. Some of the guys call her the Iron Lady. She got into DARPA a little while back...maybe half a year? Anyways, if she's on your ass, you got to act fast.”_ Good, so he knew about her, saved him time to explain.

“She threatened me, told me she'd get Blackwatch on me.”

“ _Haven't heard anything yet”_ , the Specialist paused. _“I'll let you know if something comes up, though I think you're lucky. For now.”_

“In how far?”

“ _Jones doesn't like not being in control. She'll do anything to remain the one on top. And that includes avoiding calling her superiors.”_

“So I still got time?”

“ _Most likely.”_

Alex relaxed slightly. “Good to know.” His eyes narrowed. “But she threatened Dana's safety. I can't let her get away with that.”

“ _Moya's clever”_ , Cross told him. _“She won't let you anywhere near her.”_

“I am aware.” The Runner frowned. “I'll figure something out. Thanks for the quick update, Cross.”

“ _You owe me now.”_

“Later.” Alex switched his phone off. Good. This took some of the weight away from his chest. He still had time. He could still figure out a way to get to that woman. He just didn't know how. Not at the moment.

But he had a little room to breathe. She made a mistake in allowing him to regroup.

He pushed off the roof and headed over to the Neon. Now he had to tell Dana, make sure she was prepared to leave as quickly as possible. She was going to hate this.

* * *

 

Cole was shaken. Mercer had told him that they would die if anybody knew he was there, and Moya had figured it out. He just wondered how long they had left.

Or if Moya was going to keep her word. He didn't trust her.

But there wasn't anything he could do, right? There was no choice but to sit this one out. He frowned, glancing over the Warren. They couldn't do anything, just wait and see how everything played out. Might as well do something and hope for the best.

Cole decided to head over to Trish, check up on the bus she used to take the people over into the Warren. He was partially angry at her for blatantly risking her life, and partially proud of her to work so hard. He loved this about her, and would always do.

His phone rang, making him stop surprised. Who could that be? The number said 'Zeke'. He picked it up.

“Hey Zeke. I'm just-”

He was cut off by a sharp hiss.  _“Not your friend!”_ , a voice screeched. Cole froze, eyes widening. The trouble with Moya vanishing in face of the newest development.  _“You think you can come over here, doing as you please?!”_ The speaker shouted, sounding enraged. Cole could hear somebody yelling in the background, but his head was spinning too fast for him to pick something up.  _“You and that other guy! You think you will beat us?! Think again!”_ It was an old man, Cole figured out while panicking, somebody who was full of rage.  _“We've got your fat friend”_

“Zeke?!” Cole gasped. “No- no!”

“ _Aw. You're worried. How cute”_ , the speaker spat, _“We're going to kill him real slow.”_

Fear was instantly replaced for white-hot  _rage_ that surged through the courier, and lightning lashed out of his skin. “You idiots”, he snarled in a tone that would have made Mercer proud, “You just made the biggest mistake in your lives.”

“ _Have we?!”_ , The speaker chuckled. _“Or have you? Steel Harbor. Time's running.”_

The connection was cut. Cole didn't even  _think_ , just lunged off the building he was on to hit the train tracks below with a heavy slam. This was a trap. This was a God-damned trap. And he was just running headlong into it.

But Zeke- they had Zeke. He couldn't leave him alone.

_What if the guy had been lying?_

He ground his molars together. That was impossible- how else would he have gotten Zeke's number? Just in case that  _if_ that guy had been lying, then he would torch him enough to fit him into a shoe box for telling lies. If not- then he was going to torch him, his buddies and everybody else to make a statement to never,  _ever_ mess with Cole MacGrath.

* * *

 

Cole remembered Steel Harbor. He had sometimes carried packages over to the docks and shipping offices. It had been a simple industrial area, with giant cranes, shipping containers and huge ships.

But now- now Steel Harbor was Dustmen territory. The containers had been stacked over each other into giant walls, to prevent anyone from getting in. His radar senses told him that there were many foes crawling on the inside, but this didn't stop him.

His rage was too much for him to bear, too much to make him think clear. All he wanted to do was to get in there, kill all of these bastards and get Zeke out.

He found the entrance to the compound- it was nothing more than a gap between several containers- and headed inside a maze of shipping containers, with lightning lashing out of his skin. Screw stealth- this was a declaration of  _war_ . A container in front of him popped open, spilling several heavily armed Dustmen. Cole didn't slow down.

“Where is he?!” He roared. He didn't expect an answer anyways, but he had to get his frustration out of his system. The Dustmen didn't have time to react when he collided with them, sending them flying with a powerful shockwave. Cole moved fast, whirling around and unleashing several bolts of lightning to take them out before they even hit the ground. The courier paused just long enough to make sure these guys were sufficiently _dead_ , before he continued his mad rampage. Two guys tried to assault him from a catwalk above- he chucked a grenade towards them and blew them both off, sending both of them hurtling to the ground, where they smacked against the floor with harsh cracks. Neither was moving anymore.

Cold scowled and jumped upwards, latching onto a ladder to pull himself two containers up, to lunge across a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire.

“ _This is my island!”_ , the old man screeched over several speakers hidden on the compound. _“My home! Do you know how long I waited for this?! No one, no one will stop me!”_

“Just keep on blathering!” Cole shouted enraged, zapping another Dustman who sauntered too close to him, “You'll get yours!” He skidded around a corner, just in time to see another guy high up on another catwalk, aiming his bazooka at him. The rocket raced towards him. Cole snarled and smacked it with a shockwave, sending it back. It exploded in a glorious manner, taking the Dustman with it.

Any other time, Cole would have felt  _something_ . Maybe disgust about himself for killing so many people. Maybe childish curiousness about his own powers. Maybe even  _glee_ for being unstoppable.

But right now, all he felt was rage searing through his body. Hatred for these people, who murdered innocent civilians and threatened his friends.

“ _Cole?”_ Moya's voice chimed in. _“Your GPS says you're in the shipyards. What are you doing?”_

The courier ground his teeth together, stopping to reply. “Killing the bastards that kidnapped Zeke”, he snarled enraged, keeping an eye out for more Dustmen.

“ _It's his own fault”_ , Moya replied coldly. _“You can't run out and rescue him every time he gets into trouble.”_

“Of course I can!” The courier barked. “I don't betray my friends! I don't abandon them! And I don't tell them lies, Moya!” Three heavily armored Dustmen came rushing around a corner, though Cole made short process of them. “Do you know what I'm talking about, Moya? I'm talking about you _lying_ to me. _Using_ me.”

“ _Cole-”_ , Moya started with a threat in her voice, but Cole cut her off while vaulting over a guy's head.

“I will still find John White and the Ray Sphere, Moya”, he growled, “Keeping my end of the bargain. I just hope for your sake you will keep your end as well.”

“ _That was not-”_

“The deal was- I find John and the Ray Sphere, remember? I will find them. And then you will clear my name, or I swear to God I'll do it myself.” His voice lowered into a growl. “If you _think_ you can scare me anymore by telling me you'll send in an army- I will take them. I will take all of them and stop them. Stop you. That is a _promise_.”

He cut the connection and zapped three more guys rushing him. He was so through with playing nice.

Moya, Sasha, Alden, Kessler- he was going to make them  _pay_ . All of them.

He rushed around a corner, moving too fast for the turret there to target him, and quickly dove behind another container for cover. He created a grenade in his palm and lugged it from behind his hideout, listening how it went up with a tremendous  _BOOM_ .

Four guys were dead on the ground in an instant, three squirmed on the floor- injured but still alive.

Cole felt nothing when he aimed his hand at them and zapped them, shutting down their bodies.

He rushed through the maze, stopping momentarily when a chain link fence slammed shut in front of him. But that was easily remedied: He only had to climb up a nearby ladder and use his thrusters to soar over the obstacle, landing smack in another group of Dustmen.

He threw his arms out, creating shockwaves to both sides to make them lose their balance, before he unleashed several powerful bolts to down them. More approached him, only to fall victim to his violent discharges.

The stench of singed flesh stung in his nose as soon none of them were twitching anymore, and Cole slowly lowered his hands, panting. His pulse had sped up, was racing in his chest, his body was on fire and his vision became blurry- a clear sign he was over-using his powers and required some recharge.

He drained two halogen spot lights nearby, then continued his way. He couldn't waste more time than absolutely necessary- he  _had_ to find Zeke.

Cole rushed up a ramp, easily throwing his body to the side to avoid another turret, and took out another Dustmen who shot with his bazooka at him. Cole smacked the projectile back, watched how the turret and the two Dustmen nearby went up in a massive ball of fire. The courier scrunched up his nose at the smell of singed hair and trash, and continued onwards.

His way was quickly blocked by another chain link fence, though he simply turned back and scrambled over the shipping containers to assault the bastards from above. He kept off the ground for a while longer, as his senses warned him of a turret aimed just into his direction around the next bend. Hidden behind another fence.

Just bad luck for the Dustmen he was able to create ball lightnings able to pass through them. He lugged one of those ball lightnings and focused on its trajectory, making it slam into the turret's magazine to blow it sky-high.

A single Dustman conduit lunged at him, accompanied by his trash crabs. Cole whirled around and threw his fist out, smacking the guy hard into the jaw. He heard it crack, and his hand felt like it was on fire, but the guy stumbled back with a groan too. The courier lunged at him and buried his knee into the man's stomach to drop him, before he stomped down on the his neck, killing him.

He felt nothing, not even satisfaction as the bastard choked his last. There was only rage, but it was subsiding. He just  _knew_ that if he ran out, his fear for Zeke's safety would override his powers and make him weaker. He had to end this as long he was still driven by his hatred for the Dustmen.

He violently battled his way through the maze of shipping containers, fences and Dustmen, blowing up turrets and oil-filled barrels for some extra destruction. These bastards could not own the Warren.

He hurried up a ladder, finally reaching the top of the entire construction. He heard somebody shout for him, and he whipped around. His eyes widened.

There was a large cage in front of him, suspended from a crane. People were inside, screaming for help.

“Zeke?!” Cole shouted, “Can you hear me?!”

The cage exploded in a wordless roar of superheated air. Pieces and bodies rained down across Steel Harbor.

He froze, eyes blown wide in terror.  _Nononono! Not Zeke! Not Zeke!_

Cole shrieked his best friend's name, jumping back down to where the remains crashed into the ground.  _Please God, don't let him be dead!_

He wrenched the shattered wreckage apart, scanning each of the mangled faces. So many dead, so many because he was too slow.  _Please don't be dead, Zeke- please don't be--  
Zeke's not there._

The courier exhaled, sinking to his knees. Zeke wasn't among them. He hadn't failed.

_Yet_ .

The icy dread that had gripped Cole's heart was instantly wiped away by a new surge of  _rage_ , and he swung himself back upwards, shooting the guy that had blown up the cage.

His head whipped up, eyes narrowing. Further down the complex was another, smaller cage. And there was only one figure inside.

_Zeke_ .

“Hang in there, buddy”, Cole snarled. “I'm coming.”

He ran across the containers, swearing because there wasn't enough cover up here. He had no choice but to move fast and take several bullets. Missiles impacted besides him, nearly throwing him off his feet, but Cole pushed through. He fired lightning bolts at the guys with the bazookas, he jumped on other guys with assault rifles, and he violently knocked others off their high perches and to their doom.

He rushed across cat walks and industrial cranes, mind snapping into a frenzy.

“ _You're a persistent little bastard, aren't you?”_ , The old man screeched through the intercom. _“Doesn't matter. It's nearly done. And once it is, all will bow before me. Just as my father wanted!”_

“Come and face me, coward!” Cole hollered, “And we'll see who's the stronger of us!”

Of course, the other guy probably couldn't hear him, but every word he said made Cole only  _angrier_ . He fried every last Dustman he could see, before his rage had subsided enough for him to  _think_ again. He found the controls of the crane that held Zeke's cage, and pressed a few buttons, watching how the cage was lowered to the street outside of the Steel Harbor.

“Whew”, he heard Zeke's relieved voice, “There is close, and then there was that.”

Cole threw one last glance over his shoulder, checking for any Dustmen left behind with his radar senses. But there weren't any. Only a whole lot of cooling corpses.

He knew he should feel guilty, should feel remorse about having taken so many lives, but he just couldn't find it in himself. These bastards had dared to attack his friend- his  _family_ \- and they paid dearly for it. Cole snorted, then jumped off the crane and dropped to the street nearly eight stories beneath, hitting the floor with a heavy  _thud_ . He went to the cage Zeke was in and wrenched it open.

Zeke seemed unharmed- shaken, yes, but fine otherwise. Relief flooded through Cole's body, and he was in the process of simply hugging his best friend, when a tiny spark of anger reared its ugly head and took over.

“What the Hell were you doing down here?” He bit out. He didn't _mean_ for it to sound like that, wanted to ask how he was doing, but his head had other plans.

Zeke rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. “Jus' tryin' to help out, man”, he explained, “Wanted to sneak in and see what the trash-baggers were up to.”

Cole's eyes widened, before they narrowed.  _Really? Really?!_ It had been tough for  _him_ , and he had frickin'  _Superpowers_ . But Zeke? Zeke didn't have anything!

“Are you insane?!” He snapped angrily, “You're lucky they didn't kill you!” Shit, he had been _so_ close to losing his friend. When that other cage exploded- his heart nearly stopped. If that _had_ been Zeke- if Zeke would now be lying in pieces all over the Steel Harbor- Cole didn't know what he would have done.

Zeke bristled at the tone of his voice. “What are you sayin'?” He demanded to know. “That old Zeke needs to go back to his roof and just chill? That he's only good for a laugh and a beer, but when it's go-time he ain't worth a damn?” He crossed his arms, looking defiant. “That what you're sayin', Cole?”

_Yes, damnit. I nearly lost you!_ He wanted to say. He really wanted to tell him how worried he'd been, how angry at those Dustmen, how panicking when he saw him in that cage. He had seen these other guys die, just in front of his eyes. It could have been Zeke all too easily. But he couldn't get his tongue to form these words.

“This isn't a game, Zeke”, he bit out instead, mentally kicking himself. “Not anymore.”

Zeke frowned. “Jus' because you got powers doesn't make you better than everyone else”, he snapped, “Not by a long shot!” He whirled around and marched off, not even looking back.

Cole didn't stop him, but all that rage, all that irritation quickly bled away and turned into bone-deep weariness.

He didn't want to argue with Zeke. He was still his best friend- but he could have died here all too easily. Cole had the blood of many innocents on his hands already- Stampton Bridge, the Reapers that had been normal people before, the guys here- but if it had been  _Zeke_ ... He didn't want to think of it. It made his stomach roll unpleasantly and bile crept into his throat. No, if Zeke had died through his own stupidity, then Cole would never forgive himself. He just wanted to protect him and Trish, make sure they were okay.

_Why couldn't he understand this?_

He groaned and sat down at the curb, burrowing his face behind his hands. His body was trembling- all the adrenaline was gone, and the fear about  _what could have been_ settled in, locking his system down. He could have lost his best friend. It had been too close to home.

The pedestrians passing by didn't approach him, luckily, and left him to wallow in his own misery.

It changed when his phone rang. It wasn't Moya, though.

“ _Cole?”_

It was Trish. The courier exhaled shakily and pressed the reply button. “Trish?”

“ _Listen, I've got the last of my gear loaded onto the bus, but there are Reapers blocking the way to the hospital.”_ She sighed. _“Can you help me getting past them?”_

“Once we get over there”, he replied, “Maybe we can have that talk?”

“ _We will”_ , Trish assured him. _“But at the moment the sick people have priority.”_

“Of course they do”, Cole agreed. He pulled himself upright. “Hey, uh- you have any idea where they came from? You made it sound like they didn't bother you the first time.”

“ _Like Hell I do”_ , Trish answered tired. _“Maybe they finally realized what we're doing, or something.”_ She paused for a moment. _“Also, could you maybe hurry? We got this scary guy here, says he wants to help, but he also seriously looks like he wants to tear the Neon apart looking for Reapers. I don't want to be blamed when he gets himself killed.”_

Cole blinked for a moment. “Don't worry”, he promised. “I'll be there.”

* * *

 

Dana was easy to find. Alex knew where she would most likely be; and he would never, ever forget her scent. Even in a city of millions of humans, her smell was what he instinctively prioritized and followed. After all, she was  _family_ . Not in blood, but in mind. And that was enough for him to go wherever she was.

Only this time the reason he looked for her wasn't as pleasant as a simple brother-sister-bonding. This time the reason was a threat to her safety.

The Blacklight Runner grit his teeth in an enraged snarl and jumped off a low building, shattering the derelict-looking satellite dish with a simple brush of his elbow.  _How was this possible?_

He had been so  _certain_ that he was being careful enough. He cleaned up after every massacre, he rarely used his more obvious powers and even had civilians for back-up in case a larger group of Reapers attacked, so how in God's name did this Moya become aware of him being in Empire City?! Not even  _Blackwatch_ knew, and they had the technology to sniff him out.

And more even, what was her plan?

She had claimed she wanted him alive to help find the Ray Sphere. No question she was also aware of his way of finding information- after all, no-one else could get anything they wanted right out of somebody's brain.

His brow furrowed. Maybe that was her whole agenda? Since he could get information so easily, maybe she wanted to blackmail him into consuming whoever made that Sphere...to make a new one? In that case, she wouldn't dare letting Blackwatch know, unless she wanted to lose her sole source of data.

Alex didn't like it one bit- the mighty  _ZEUS_ , at the mercy of a complete stranger, of somebody who could easily betray him without him ever having a chance to fight back. He didn't like it, but had no idea how to remedy it. The only thing that came to mind was to kick his last bit of cover and go all out, ravage his way across Stampton Bridge to find that bitch. But this was dangerous, too dangerous for Dana. Moya was aware of her, and if he ever attempted to take her life, she would, in return, take Dana. Alex couldn't allow it. Dana was everything to him.

And for her sake, he had to work out a strategy to take out Moya without her ever having a chance to cause damage. But for this, he needed Dana's help. Dana was smart, smarter than most humans he had ever seen, and certainly smarter than him. It was contradictory, really.  _He_ was a collection of the greatest minds, every victim he consumed with their brain intact only added to his overall intelligence. Over the years he had learnt so many new abilities, abilities that allowed him to adapt to nearly every situation, while  _she_ only had her simple human brain. And still, she more often than not gave hints for the correct course of action.  _Her_ , not  _him_ . 

Maybe it was because Dana only had  _one_ mind, not thousands like him. It was easier for her to figure something out, because there weren't any other voices inside her head.

That was why he never decided on matters concerning her  _without_ her consent. Alone, he was a force of nature, together, they were unstoppable.

From afar, he could see the bus they used. He remembered it well. It had been Dana's idea to reinforce it, after he brought it to the clinic (carrying it across the roofs in the dead of the night, only she was there to witness it). The two engineers from the night before, Roger and Lou, had taken great pains in armoring the vehicle with metal sheets he salvaged. There was an emergency generator on its roof, to power the systems within in case the engine died. He was aware Dana and a few of the others had moved the bus from the Neon over to the Bayview hospital at a large personal risk. Alex had headed back to them a few times, before he met up with the courier, to make sure the way was secure.

Of course, he had been utterly  _terrified_ when Dana had told him of their plan, he tried to stop her, but she was too stubborn. In the end, he couldn't prevent her from getting on that bus to bring the sick people over to the larger Bayview Hospital. At least, he got her to carry a large rifle. He knew she could shoot pretty well, and it eased his mind a bit. Not enough, though, because he was her big brother and it was his job to worry about her.

He exhaled and dropped to the ground in an alley to stay unnoticed, before he made his way over to the bus. The few armed guards knew him as the guy bringing them weapons and ammunition. But he had no desire to talk to them, so Alex approached them from a blind angle, the men and women too busy loading sick people and supplies into the bus to pay him any attention. Good enough.

He made his way over to Dana, who was standing aside and checking things off on a checklist she had. “Dana”, he whispered with a hoarse hiss, making her shudder involuntarily. Nearly three years knowing what he really was, and she was still scared when he sneaked up on her.

“Jesus!” She snapped, hushing her voice, “Don't do that, Alex.” He dutifully stepped back, but the need to talk to her thrummed through his body. And she knew too. There were only a few instances in which he used her _real_ name in public. And none of these instances were favorable.

She glanced over to her colleague and made a wordless gesture. The other woman nodded and took over for her, so Dana could drag Alex away.

“What is going on?” She asked, and there was anxiousness in her voice. She glanced back over her shoulder, as if expecting someone to barge in on them, or a Hunter lurking behind them. She never got away from this. Nightmares woke her in the middle of the night. Alex knew.

He sighed, hand brushing through his short curly hair. “I fucked up”, he said. “I fucked up big time.”

Dana groaned. “How?”

“I don't know”, Alex admitted, “I thought I was being careful enough...but Jones...” He trailed off.

“She figured it out?” Dana hissed. “Fuck. That woman's a bloodhound.”

The Runner snorted. “She contacted me, through MacGrath's phone.” He exhaled. “She told me to work for her, or she'll summon Blackwatch on my ass.”

“She's stalling you”

“Surprisingly, she's not”, Alex replied. “I called Cross, and he told me they have nothing.”

“Why?” Dana's brows were furrowed.

“Because she wants to blackmail me”, the Runner replied coldly. “Imagine this. A mere _human_ blackmailing _ZEUS_.” He stalked up and down, fists clenching and unclenching. “She _knows_ what I can do- what I was made to do. And she tries to capitalize on that.”

“Holy shit”, Dana realized.

“Dana”, Alex said. “If you have the time- hack into their servers. Get everything you know about DARPA and the First Sons. I believe Jones has something to do with the explosion, knowingly or not. I want you to get as much as possible. And- if anything happens- _release_ the data. Make sure the world knows what's going on. Screw the consequences.” He scowled. “I will not let that bitch control me.” The tension left him quickly, and his shoulders slumped. “Don't know _how_ , though. She's clever, hiding even from her own people.”

Dana exhaled. “Shit. It's always one problem after the other, isn't it?”

“Don't worry”, Alex growled. “I will figure a way. Just make sure you're ready to haul ass if things go south.”

“I will”

Alex wanted to say something to ease the situation, when his back went ramrod straight. He whipped around, eyes narrowing.

_Reapers_ .

Not very many, but at any rate  _dangerous_ .

“We'll talk this out later”, he snarled, pushing to the front. The guards and the other doctors and nurses have already noticed the approaching gang members. Alex was faster. He growled, and stalked to the front, with the Reapers recognizing him and stopping in their tracks. Lou and Roger spotted him and relaxed slightly. They knew how devastating he was. And Moya already knew he was there- so there was no reason to continue fooling around.

With a snarl, he sped up, going just a  _bit_ too fast to be entirely human, before he bodily tackled into the first guys. They didn't survive the contact, bones snapped like twigs and organs ruptured as the viral mass collided with them. Alex's denser mass serving as a perfect battering ram.

Before anybody could even  _move_ , Alex had already whirled around and punched his fist straight through a Heavy Reaper's chest, then pulled the body back and threw it with all his might into another Reaper, killing him as well.

Bullets impacted into his chest. The Runner snorted in annoyance, then kicked off the ground, jumping about one or two stories up, before coming back down, foot first. He easily dispatched of the last Reapers in vicinity, while the others fled in terror.

He casually dusted off his hands and turned back to head to the bus. Most of the people present swallowed nervously. Except for Dana, who just exhaled in defeat.  _Nice fucking job, Alex_ .

He cleared his throat. “So? We go over to the Bayview now?”

Dailey was the first to work her tongue. “Uhm...not right now. We are still waiting for Cole.” Right. The guy with the  _superpowers_ . The guy everybody knew had powers. What he just displayed was consistent with what the other conduits around here showed- superhuman strength and durability. At this rate, they probably believed he was just another conduit. He left them in this belief, even when it meant he couldn't pull out his claws anymore. 

He was aware he wouldn't be able to hold back any longer. Dana was in danger, and that made all his other fears pale in comparison. If it came to it, he would not hesitate. He would kill whoever threatened Dana in whatever way he could.

Consequences be damned.

* * *

 

Getting back into the Neon had been surprisingly calm. Cole could see the Dustmen peek out from the dark alleys and cluttered streets, he's seen their weapons tremble in poorly contained rage, he saw their eyes narrow behind their masks. Those that had dogs held the leashes in white-knuckled hands, with the beasts snarling openly at him.

But none of them were even trying to attack him. Instead they watched.

Cole swallowed nervously, because this only meant that shit was going to hit the fan big time in the near future. He could guess. Alden seemed to know Zeke was his friend (if that old coot that had been talking to him back at Steel Harbor  _was_ Alden Tate), so he wouldn't put it past him if he knew his  _girlfriend_ was the one getting injured and sick people to Bayview. Especially if she'd done so the entire morning already.

He really hoped Mercer would be present and willing to help him get the bus to the hospital. He was not keen on fighting  _another_ wave of Dustmen on his own. The Steel Harbor had been enough- and induced by rage and madness. Now his head was clear again, and he realized how easy  _he_ could have kicked the bucket. He had been shot at multiple times, had nearly been blown up, and had a whole lot of pissed-off dudes on his ass. Those guys were all dead now, but their buddies were very much alive and not too pleased with his rampage. So having someone who could apparently sponge damage as much as that guy would be a valuable ally, he realized. If only to draw attention away from him  _and_ Trish.

Subconsciously, Cole hurried up to get away from the Warren. He hopped back on the wire and ground along it, flitting past the bridge on his side. He could hear the people whisper among themselves, and he felt confused that he didn't hear any hateful words anymore.

His phone rang again.

“ _Hey, brother?”_ Cole arched his eyebrow. Zeke? _“Sorry I was such a prick at the shipyards. Uh...really screwed the pooch on that one.”_

The courier exhaled. “I know you mean well, Zeke”, he told him in all honesty. “But the world is changing and it's changing too fast. You make a mistake now, and you're as good as dead.” He sighed. “There was another cage, full of people.” Cole swallowed. “I-I couldn't save them. And for a moment I thought  _you_ were in that cage too, and I just-” He trailed off, unwilling to face that possibility. “I don't want to lose you”, he added silently.

“ _I know that”_ , Zeke admitted, _“But you know how it's been to me: No family, broke all the damn time.”_ He sighed. _“When this quarantine went up, I thought it'd give me a fresh start. Let me really be something.”_

“I know where you're coming from”, Cole replied. “I'm not angry at you” _Not anymore, at any rate._ “But we have to be careful now. All of us.”

“ _Yeah. I get it.”_ Zeke exhaled in defeat. _“But I do want to be more than just your buddy.”_

“Maybe you could be my information broker? I could need someone to check out things for me.”

“ _Maybe. Guess I'll see you around?”_

“Yeah. Later.”

He had been a real ass to his best friend, but he just wanted the best for him. That's what friends are for, yes?

He shook his head. He had to focus on something more important: Getting to Trish and the bus and get them safely over to the hospital. He jogged through several back alleys and parking lots, short-cutting across buildings and ground along wires, and reached the clinic they wanted to start from.

From afar he could already see the remains of a few Reapers, and the people milling about and fussing over the stuff and sick civilians that were put into an heavily armored bus. He also saw Mercer at the vehicle, together with the engineer from the night before (Roger, that was his name), fiddling with the massive grate installed at the roof.

Cole dropped to the ground, then strolled towards them. He saw Trish and immediately made a bee-line for her.

“Cole!”

“As promised, here I am”, he claimed with a smile. “So, we ready to get this show on the road?”

“I hope you are up to it”, Trish replied with a sigh. “On my last trip, the Reapers seemed to have noticed me, and a short while ago we got attacked- that scary guy over there mashed them before they got close, though.”

“The Reapers?” Cole frowned. They shouldn't be able to work properly anymore. 

“Guess they were thinking I worked with the Dustmen or something”, Trish shrugged.

“Dustmen, yeah”, the courier scowled. “Listen, I just pissed them off, and I'm pretty sure they're out for my blood, so it is possible we'll run into trouble on the way there.”

Trish nodded. “Our resident meat mincer and Christine thought the same.” Cole turned slightly to see the blonde nurse ushering some children into the bus, before giving a thumbs-up into their direction as Trish continued. “Roger, Lou and him rigged the roof with a mesh and a generator. It should provide with an non-stop source of energy for you.”

Cole grinned. “Wow. That's really smart.”

Trish smiled, crossing her arms. “They don't let dumb-asses into med school.” She paused. “Your job is to stick around, best on top of the bus, and we'll head out. If you need to jump down, I'll stop the bus and wait for you.” She turned and walked to the vehicle, getting in along with a few other nurses and one doctor.

Cole inhaled sharply and readied himself, just in time for Mercer to approach him. “I'll stay nearby”, he supplied, “Follow the bus.”

“Everything okay with you?”

“Not really”, the terrorist admitted, “Moya knows me, tries to _use_ me. She's doing _exactly_ what I have prevented for years now- I don't like it.”

“Yeah, but there's not much we can do at the moment.”

“No. No there isn't.” He shook his head. “This has to be done in small steps. Let's get the bus over to the hospital.”

“Gotcha”, Cole latched onto the steel grate atop the bus and pulled himself up. The vehicle started moving. It went slow because of the additional weight on it, but still too fast for a human to follow at a comfortable pace. Didn't bother Mercer though, as he easily jogged alongside the bus, going fifteen miles per hour.

Lightning was surging through the courier. What would be deadly to everybody else merely tickled him, and fed him power. Power he wouldn't relinquish for anything in the world. Not anymore.

A small group of Reapers thought to intercept them, but Cole easily zapped them before they even got close.

There was a disgruntled snarl, seconds before Mercer sped up and tackled into a Heavy Reaper, throwing him off the street and shattering the bazooka he held. Cole furrowed his brow, sending out a radar pulse. He paled almost instantly by the sheer  _amount_ of Reapers rushing towards them. It must have been every single remaining Reaper that tried to take them out.

“Uh-” he began lamely, “Shitload of dudes coming here?”

“Already noticed them”, Mercer grunted.

“Shit, man!” Cole snapped as the first few rounded the corner. “Didn't you say they'll degenerate without Sasha?” He lugged several grenades towards them, taking them out.

“I did!” Mercer replied irritated, aiming a rifle he'd taken off the Reapers at them to shoot them. “But it seems they still have some sort of basic programming. Or...” His eyes narrowed. “Or Sasha is still controlling them.”

“Shit. You say she's still alive?”

“She's precious- the tar she produces could be useful to the First Sons.” The Reapers were upon them. Cole couldn't reply, just focused on frying these guys. His brow creased.

They were mostly ignoring Mercer...and were instead heading for  _him_ . He coiled his legs and jumped off the bus, using his thrusters to get some distance- and the Reapers immediately changed course.

So they were after him. Not Mercer, and thankfully not Trish. Okay, he could deal with that (though a part of his mind wished they were after the virtually indestructible conduit with a preference for sharp things), so he lunged across the street, luring the Reapers away from the bus. A few bullets did manage to bite into his shoulder, but he could ignore them. Every single transformer he put back increased his overall power, strength, endurance and pain threshold, so bullets no longer hurt  _that_ much anymore.

Cole threw out his arms, creating a shockwave that slammed most of the guys off their feet. The others, which had tried to assault him from behind, didn't get very far when Mercer pounced at them, cracking spines and shattering skulls with frightening ease. Cole paid him no mind though and send powerful discharges into the guys he'd downed. To each their own, and despite these Reapers being probably civilian (or used to, before the tar got to them), he didn't feel anything killing them. He knew he should. He was  _killing people_ , after all, but he just couldn't find a single damn. It was wrong, or it should be wrong, but right now, it didn't matter. He had a job to do, had to make sure Trish could reach the hospital in one piece, and everyone who thought they could stop him was an obstacle that had to be removed.  _Permanently._

At least he didn't make it as permanently as Mercer did. He grimaced at the broken figures on the ground behind him. The terrorist didn't have a shred of mercy, and the strength to back that up. He could casually throw around air conditioners, and that kind of power was too much for the human body, Reaper or not.

“Are you finished?” He asked slightly choked. Mercer shrugged. “For the moment.”

“For the _moment_?!” the courier managed to press out. “Didn't you maul enough of these guys?”

“Reapers, yes. Dustmen- no”, he arched his eyebrow. “Or what was that with this ' I just pissed them off, and I'm pretty sure they're out for my blood' deal?”

Cole carefully didn't acknowledge that the terrorist casually slipped back into using  _his_ voice when replicating what he said just a while ago. Seriously, what was that guy's deal?

He frowned heavily. “Just  _what_ are you?”

The terrorist glanced at him, blue eyes without any emotions. “A monster”, he said, turning to head back to the bus.

Cole blinked in confusion. Zeke called him a freak, a lot of the people actually did. It was something he called the other conduits too, but  _monster_ was a bit harsh. Okay, so Mercer  _was_ scary as Hell, but to go so far...He shook his head. He could worry about that later on. They had to get to the Bayview.

He climbed the bus, giving the signal to start again. There were no other Reapers coming at them, except for one or two who tried to take them by surprise. Mercer dealt with them faster than Cole could, plainly raising his rifle to gun them down. Cole wondered why he didn't use the gun back when the Reapers swarmed them, but the guy probably liked close up and personal better. Would explain the claws.

Speaking of which- he  _was_ surprised he didn't pull them out. It definitely wasn't a night-only deal, he'd seen them at day too. 

But then again, that guy was wanted, and Cole figured that the claws were probably part of the description, as was the leather jacket and the hoodie- all of which he didn't have on him now. Or any time during the day.

Both of them whipped around at the same moment, two sets of eyes narrowing on the turret truck that raced towards them to cut them off.

“Got it”, both exclaimed at the same time, but Mercer was a tad faster. He shot to the front, going way too fast to be a human being (leaving craters in the street). The terrorist easily flipped over the driver's cab and slammed hard into the truck bed, instantly killing the Reaper at the turret, before he plucked the turret out and chucked it with extreme force into the cab, murdering the driver as well. The truck veered to the side and collided with the parked cars before it crashed into an abandoned store, reeling over and dropping on its side. Mercer had stepped off before the truck went out of control, and was now casually strolling back towards their bus, brushing off his shoulder.

Cole rolled his tongue around in his mouth, then set his face into a frown. “I would have had it too.”

“You weren't fast enough.”

“Really?” The courier arched an eyebrow, then simply flipped his hand to the side, creating a lightning bolt and throwing a grenade at the second turret truck that just came around a corner. Unlike his lightning bolts, his grenades didn't get conducted off, as they were more or less energy in a still form- which was suitable to him in this case when the grenade bounced off the truck's cabin and landed near the ammunition belt for the turret. When the grenade exploded, it caused a violent chain reaction that tore apart the turret, the Reapers and the truck's gas tank, blowing the entire thing sky-high.

“One to one, jackass.”

After that, there were no more Reapers coming after them, but they both heard explosions coming from the direction of the Stone Canal Bridge. When the bus pulled up, Cole hopped off it to signal the driver to stop, and hurried up to the bridge. Charred Reapers and burnt car wreckages littered the street. “Holy shit”, He grunted. “What happened?”

“Explosives”, Mercer muttered, “Lots of them.” He glanced at the other end. “Dustmen”, he added.

“Ah shit”, Cole groaned.

“You take the cars”, the terrorist instructed, cracking his knuckles. “I take these fucks.”

Cole immediately headed to the side, focusing on the cars instead to shove them away with his shockwaves to clear the path, while ignoring the shots and screams from the other end. After what they had done, after they were trying to do, killing them was the only option they had left to get them to back off.

He finished with the obstacles just in time for the last Dustmen to croak, and headed back to the bus to pull himself topside. The bus started moving again, slwoly going across the bridge, then turning left to head down the street. Mercer was plainly visible, jogging in front of the bus to periodically dive to the side and either shoot at the lurking Dustmen, or assault them close up. Cole just crouched on top of the bus, watching with sharp eyes for any Dustmen trying to sneak up on them.

But the Dustmen were more stubborn than the Reapers were, and much more violent. They tried everything to stop the bus- and kill Cole. He knew they were out for  _him_ . He murdered their friends at Steel Harbor, after all.

“Don't stop!” Cole barked, loud enough so the bus driver heard him. “Keep moving!”

Several Trash Crabs suddenly popped into existence in front of them, but Cole made short process of them with a single shockwave. The two conduits trying to assault them were a bit tougher, though. And they did have rocket launchers.

Cole swore and lunged off the bus, lightning flashing around him to present himself as their target. The two swung their weapons down, trying to aim at him, when Cole unleashed his lightning, shooting each of them in the chest. The men stumbled back, swearing, just in time for the courier to pounce on them. He swung his knee into the first one's throat, utterly crushing his voice box and dropping him back. Being a conduit, he would probably recover. Cole didn't give him a chance to do so when he zapped him once in the head, killing him. The other had caught himself and tried to swing the blade attached to the muzzle of his bazooka at his foe. Cole couldn't side-step fast enough, so he allowed the blade to hit him, but went lax at the same time to drop to the side and avoid most damage. Instead, he used the momentum from the Dustman's swing to roll behind the guy, then jumped back to his feet and latched on his back, fingers digging into his skull. He charged up and sent enough voltage through the man's brain to cook it, killing him as well.

Mercer had finished with his group, and started to move back to them. Cole too hurried back to the bus and climbed on top. More Dustmen seemed to crawl from every alley. Cole ground his teeth together. “Floor it!”

The bus sped up, putting another ten miles of speed on the speedometer when he heard something hiss, and turned, just in time to see a missile head straight towards him. With a swear, he tried to knock it back, but it was too close. The explosion shook the entire bus and threw him clear off, making him squirm and groan in pain.

He shook his head to clear it, noting the shadow flitting over him. Mercer.

Cole blinked, realizing that the terrorist was trailing fiery red lines after him as he soared over his head to, presumably, murder the guy who just shot him. He coughed and struggled upright, climbing back on top of the bus. He drained some of the energy to fix himself, when he noticed Mercer carving a bloody swathe into a group of Dustmen on a roof.

He had the claws out.

Cole's eyebrows shot up as he stared at the fiery orange glowing spots at the joints and shoulders. Those were definitely new.

Mercer snarled when more Dustmen shot down the street towards the bus. He leapt off the roof, claws blazing as he shredded the guys, blending them into a fine paste.

“Hurry!” He snapped, dismissing his talons, before he rushed to the front. The bus followed after him, and Cole cleared out any cars that might act as a blockade.

Bayview Hospital appeared in front of them, and the courier exhaled in relief. The building stood as a huge monument in front of them, two massive side wings jutting out on either side with a shorter building just between them, acting as the main entrance.

“We made it”, Trish huffed out, clearly audible through the open window.

_Yeah. Thank God._

He wanted to relax, when he suddenly noticed something. There were two men on top of the main building, just above the entrance. One of them was a normal Dustman, the other...an old man.

Cole swallowed, staring at the old man. Something was not right here. His back bristled and cold sweat ran down his brow. That old coot was dangerous.

Mercer snarled, voice barely above a whisper, but so clear in Cole's ears. “Alden Tate”

Cole's eyes widened. The leader of the Dustmen? Alden Tate?! The guy that had Zeke kidnapped?!

The courier stared at the old man, watching from the corner of his eyes how Mercer's arms twisted and changed into those massive claws again, fiery areas glowing eerily.

He neglected to notice the rocket launcher the other guy had.

Cole heard the roar of superheated air as the missile shot towards him, and feebly threw his arms up, his powers momentarily forgotten.

Mercer suddenly shot upwards, taking the missile right to the face while shielding him. The force of the impact threw both off the bus and flung them to the ground. Mercer's weight dropped on Cole, knocking out all breath from his lungs.  _Seriously, that guy probably weighed a ton!_

The terrorist hissed and rolled over, scrambling to his hands and knees, while Cole pulled himself upwards, moaning in pain.

Trish screamed.

Both men's heads whipped up, eyes blown wide when the bus was encased in a sort of barely visible yellow aura, floating several feet off the ground. The metal groaned.

Alden Tate.

He was lifting the bus with his mind. Cole stared transfixed at the floating vehicle, he barely heard the screams and shocked yells from inside, before he turned to glare at the old, grizzled man.

Alden didn't even move, just barely flicked his wrist- flinging the bus on top of one of the side wings, where it slammed into the roof, then skidded across to teeter at the edge.

Easily twelve stories off the ground.

“DANA!” Mercer howled, already pushing off the ground. His eyes were widened in panic- and he didn't even pay any attention to the old man on the roof. No, his entire focus was on the bus hanging precariously from the roof.

“TRISH!!”

Cole lunged to his feet, following after the terrorist. Trish was still in that thing!

He threw a glance to the side, noting that Alden was gone, but right now his brain was too preoccupied screaming and running in circles.

Mercer smashed through any and all Dustman opposition on his way to the smooth building facade. Cole chased after him, watching how the guy jumped against the wall and stuck there, then rushed upwards like gravity didn't even exist.

The courier latched at the potholes the other left and pulled himself up.

“Hold on Trish, I'm coming!” Half his mind was panicking, fearing for his love, when the other half began to get consumed by white hot _wrath_.

This-this just signed these guy's death warrants. All of them. Cole would wipe them out without mercy.

Mercer already swung his body across the edge, followed by the short shriek of metal. Cole's head snapped up, witnessing in horror how the bus started slipping off the roof.

It stopped its decent hanging halfway off, but even down here he could hear the panicked screams. Icy fear gripped his chest and Cole lunged upwards, hoping to reach them in time.

The bus was pulled back, metal grating against concrete, and when the courier finally hauled himself on the roof, he saw Mercer digging his long metallic claws into the hind axle of the bus and just  _dragged_ the entire thing to safety.

Cole exhaled once, nodded at the other, before he rushed to the door to blast it open. The doctors, nurses, the driver and some of the sick people stumbled out, dropping to their knees in relief.

He saw Mercer head towards them, stopping just in front of them, when Christine flung her body at him, hugging him fiercly like he didn't have machetes for fingers. She was crying, sobbing in panic, Cole noticed.

There was a soft moan that snapped his attention away. Trish staggered towards him, swaying and pressing her hand against her temple, where blood trickled from a deep cut.

“Trish!” Cole hurried towards her, grabbing her shoulder with one hand and placing the other against her head. “Hold still”, he murmured, sending charges into her skin with far more care than he displayed back when he fixed the sick people, to knit the wound shut. 

“I've been so scared”, Trish whimpered, hugging him. “He just-just threw the bus up here.”

Cole felt her shudder against him. He simply acted, drawing her closer and kissed her. He just had to make sure she was okay.

When Cole pulled away, he looked her right into the eyes. “I would never let anything happen to you, Trish.”

 


	16. Blacklight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little peace and quiet before shit hits the fan again.

**Blacklight**

 

_Fire. Everywhere. Buildings only hollow shells. Scorched black skeletons of humans and animals everywhere. Even the trees were scorched black corpses. No grass anywhere._

_Everything was dead._

_He was running along the half-melted ground, shoes echoing loudly against the floor. He didn't know where he was running though, or where the heck he even was._

“ _See this, Cole?” He whirled around, seeing Kessler standing just next to him, arms spread as he gestured to his surrounding. The younger hissed and pulled back, fists clenching to summon his lightning, but there was nothing. He growled with a mixture of shock and anger, then turned his attention back to the older man. “This is what happens if you fail.” He glared at him, his glowing blue eyes blank. “You can't trust anybody to do this work for you, because nobody else can.”_

“ _If you want me to kill you, just give me a date and a location. I'm going to kick your ass so hard-”_

_Kessler chuckled, before he was suddenly in his face, towering slightly over him. “You don't get it, do you? You don't get second chances”, he hissed. “Every time you fall, someone's world ends. Ends in the worst way imaginable.” The ground trembled and a roar shook the air. The younger whipped around, staring in shock at the massive burning entity that approached them, tearing open everything around._

_Kessler was fading away, his sneer still visible on his face. “I learnt this lesson the hard way, Cole. You will learn it too. One way or another.” His voice had all but drowned in the wordless roar of the flaming titan. The young man swore and whipped around, running away. He had no powers and no idea how to take this thing, but the ground around him kept collapsing._

_He leapt off and tried to scramble up a building, when the beast finally became aware of him. It roared again, and blazing-hot pain enveloped him, burning through his lungs and making him scream in pain._

Cole shot upright, eyes wide, heart racing madly in his chest. There was sweat clinging to his body as he whipped his head from side to side, trying to find threats that weren't there. The static crackle of his lightning cast shadows across the walls that took the shapes of things he'd seen. But there was nothing. He was still in that doctor's office he'd been given as his room, on that rickety camp bed he used for sleeping.

Besides him, Trish stirred. “Mhm? Cole?” She mumbled sleepy. The cot creaked as she moved to glance at him. Her eyes caught sight of the lightning still running along his arms. “Everything alright?”

Cole exhaled and pulled the electricity back. “Yeah”, he huffed out, “Was only a dream.”

“Must have been some dream”, Trish muttered, yawning.

“It was nothing”, he claimed. “Just startled me.” He stretched and slipped out of bed, looking for his pants.

“Cole?”

“Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere”, he told her when he kissed her, “Just a potty break.”

“Mhmokay”, Trish slurred, already dozing off again. He let her sleep and headed outside. It was around three in the morning, and compared to the other nights until now, this had been the most sleep he'd gotten in several days.

He yawned and stretched lazily, heading to where he knew the bathroom was, letting the day play over in his head to banish the nightmare from his brain.

After that near-fatal encounter with Alden, he and Mercer had stuck around. Cole had helped with the injured and sick civilians, and had brought the heavy stuff inside, while Mercer had picked up the now empty bus and easily carried it off the roof to prevent structural damages. After that, he had stalked around the hospital, clearing out the last Dustmen and made sure the area was safe.

They had done that until late evening, when Cole realized how tired he was. He had gotten a room to sleep in and had called Zeke to tell him he was going to spend the night away from home. Trish joining him later on was a pleasant surprise, too.

Cole snickered slightly. Looks like things were finally looking up again. He hadn't seen a single person shouting at him until now. He'd seen people fighting back against the Reapers, holding their homes against the Dustmen. He'd seen the gratefulness in the people's eyes, but this time it wasn't like on that train. These people knew he was on their side. These people would fight alongside him.

Maybe Empire still had hope. Maybe there was still hope for _him_ .

Cole knew he couldn't just sit on his ass and do nothing, though. Alden was still out there. Kessler was still out there. Moya was still out there, too. He wouldn't be safe until all of them were gone. And he would stop at nothing to fight for his own freedom. Not now, not ever.

Cole paused, eyes narrowing. Something tugged at the edge of his mind. He had learned to identify it as a basic instinct. Something that warned him of danger, pointed out sources of energy, or told him who was friend or foe.

Whatever he was approaching was neither. There was electricity, only scattered and without direction, not what he was used to from electrical appliances or even people. Cole couldn't sense a single solid source of energy, it was just a ever-changing mass of electrical charges vanishing and appearing at random, rolling around in a shape that appeared human, but with no fixed nervous system. The 'aura' was off, too. Surging in waves out and retreating, condensing and ever-shifting, a mixture between everything a human should be afraid of, and still startlingly that of an ally.

He swallowed nervously, reminding himself that what he was coming closer to was actually the only other who was willing to face Moya and this entire mess. But then he also also remembered giant talons that easily rended humans to ribbons, glowing red eyes and hissed death threats.

“Couldn't sleep?” Cole shivered involuntarily at the sound of the low and gravely voice, and his body froze up completely when those piercing cold eyes settled on him, glowing unnaturally from beneath the hood. The courier shook himself to free himself from the effect, and set his face into a slight frown.

“Nightmare”, He replied. Mercer inclined his head, before turning away. “Like Dana then”, he muttered.

“Dana...” Cole furrowed his brows. Mercer had yelled that name when Alden had thrown the bus at the roof, and Moya mentioned that name too. Mercer's sister? He hadn't seen anybody on the bus who looked like they were related to the famed terrorist.

Except- oh.  _Ohh_ .

“Christine”, Cole noticed. “It's only a fake name. She's Dana, right? She's your younger sister?”

His silence was answer enough.

The courier flinched slightly. “Hey, didn't mean to pry. Just stating the obvious.” He paused again. “Just so you know, I didn't know Alden was there, or that he was going to throw the bus on the roof.”

There was a sigh. “It's not your fault. This whole situation had been messed up from the beginning”, Mercer replied. “Ever since Manhattan.”

“What did actually happen in Manhattan?” Cole asked before his brain caught up to what he was saying. Everybody always said that Mercer had murdered millions by releasing some kind of pathogen, then was claimed to have perished in a nuclear explosion. Only, one year later the pathogen returned and blew through whatever remained of the Big Apple, killing whoever had remained. Rumors were it was Mercer's work, though Cole didn't believe it now. Unless what he'd seen here was some form of elaborate trick to gain his trust to stab him in the back later, he didn't buy the story.

_You and I- we both were blamed for things we had no power whatsoever, being called terrorists even though we were merely bystanders who just ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Both of us were forced to fight an entire city trying to take us down._ If that had been true, then Mercer was actually  _innocent_ in this whole mess. Just like Cole was- only he obviously demonstrated what would have happened if he weren't so keen on clearing his name and instead just forced his way through them through violence.

The terrorist in question seemed genuine surprised by the question, inclining his head like a bird as he glanced at him. “Why do you want to know?”

Cole shrugged. “I want the truth. We've been told that there was a biological attack on Manhattan, that you personally killed two and a half  _million_ people. How much of this is true?”

“A lot”, was the reply, and his blood ran cold. “At least five to six _thousand_ of those millions I killed directly, but I also caused the outbreak to murder the rest indirectly. Though the truth is more complicated.”

“Then you better tell me. Complicated means it's most likely the truth.” He saw the man's jaw tense slightly, so he dug a bit deeper. “Has that anything to do with Moya calling you an _asset_ for DARPA? Like you belong to her.”

The other man scoffed. “Technically, she's right. Without DARPA, I wouldn't be what I am. I wouldn't even  _exist_ . Technically, I belong to them.”

Cole frowned. “Why?” Nobody belonged to anybody. Or did he mean he used to work for DARPA?

“Because they _made_ me”, was the answer. Mercer lifted his hand, letting his tendrils run over it to twist it into his claw. Up close, Cole could see the way his flesh moved, peeled away and twisted like living things, less like flesh _should_ move. And more even- even his _clothes_ changed with it, sleeves vanishing and turning into spiky black muscles. As if all of this was _him_.

“The reason I'm so good at killing is because I am a weapon”, Mercer said casually. A grim smirk tugged at his lips though. “But I'm not as they wanted me to be.”

Cole inclined his head. “What? Not deadly enough? Because you are damn well able to murder pretty much everything in your path.”

“No”, Mercer shook his head. “ _Picking_ my targets myself. Choosing who I kill. I wasn't supposed to do that.” He chuckled darkly. “My purpose had been to simply kill whoever I was pointed at, then burn myself out, be retrieved and programed to take out somebody else, then be released again. As you can see- I don't do that. Which kind of puts a damper on the whole weapon aspect. This is why they want me back- To correct what they fucked up in the first place.”

Cole froze. Was this what Moya had planned for him, too? Was this whole place just a testing ground to check whether he was suited? Was this what was going to happen to him at the end of this? Being brainwashed over and over and  _over_ again, only to be a weapon for whoever paid for him? This was  _sick_ .

His resolve to murder everyone included tripled, while he realized just what the other guy had been through. Suddenly he wasn't just a creepy dude who happened to be his ally anymore- he was a  _friend_ who had managed to escape a fate that was set up for him as well.

Mercer's deep chuckle got him back from that spiral of violence he was currently diving into. “Of course, they didn't expect me to end up  _thinking_ , either.”

Cole blinked, not understanding. Mercer continued, eyes distant. “I could kill five thousand humans in under three minutes at the beginning. However, as soon I managed to learn to think, after I became who I am now, I became a lot  _less_ lethal- and much more dangerous for Blackwatch.”

“Whoa”, Cole exclaimed. “Back off. You learned to think? What are you?”

Mercer chuckled, a sound that was nowhere near nice or amused. It was cold, malicious. His lips pulled away from his teeth in a grin, unveiling entirely too many too sharp teeth. “I was  _created._ Created from a disease that had eradicated a town in Idaho, back in '69. I am not human- I am a  _virus_ . A sickness.  _Blacklight_ .”

Cole wasn't entirely sure whether he was dreaming. But then again, he could shoot lightning from his hands and had fought a woman who had tar instead of blood in her veins. So maybe a guy that was actually a virus wasn't too far off? “Just how?” He asked, “If you really are a sickness- then how-?”

“Am I looking human?” Mercer shrugged. “I'm not too sure myself, guess that had been another design flaw. All I know is that I woke up in a morgue with bullet holes in my chest. Which means that this body was _dead_ when I got to it and took it over.” 

Cole hissed in realization. So  _that_ was why he looked like a corpse- he  _was_ one, actually. Oh gross.

He shook himself, noting the expression of the other man (thing? Virus?). The courier cleared his throat. “How did you get your name then? You just picked one?”

Mercer shook his head. “Before I woke up, I heard that name, thought I was the guy who owned the body before- you know, Alex Mercer. Later I figured out that I wasn't him. I am as much Mercer as I am a human.”

“So- you're a _virus_ joyriding around in a dead man's body?” Cole asked, incredulously. “Holy shit. And here I thought _I_ was special.” He paused, edging away from the terrorist. “Are you contagious? Was that what happened in Manhattan?”

Mercer snorted in an amused way. “No. Compared to my first release in Penn Station- my  _infant stage_ , if you want to put it that way- I can decide who to infect and who not. I'm more safe to be around now. Though I wouldn't recommend it.” 

There was a pause for some moments, allowing the young man to turn those information over in his head. “And...Manhattan?”

“It was very similar to what happened here. At least in some parts. Manhattan was locked down too, people murdered each other, deadly forces took over.” His expression darkened. “It started with somebody releasing a deadly pathogen in Penn Station. Releasing _me_. Prematurely, as the guy who did it, had been paid to actually _create_ me, and I hadn't been anywhere near the final product. But he was smart. Paranoid as Hell, but smart. And he realized that his colleagues disappeared one by one the closer his project came to close. He figured he was next.”

“So he...released _you_? Killed what? Five _thousand_ people? Why?”

“Because they had driven him in a corner. They tried to stop him, but believed he was bluffing when he threatened to release the virus. He wasn't.” There was the flash of teeth again, but it certainly wasn't amused anymore. “He willingly and _knowingly_ doomed all the people of Manhattan as a last glorious _Fuck You_ to the entire World. They shot him dead. His work, however, it got into his blood stream, resurrected his body. Walked off with it. Believed itself to be him.”

“Wait”, Cole's eyes narrowed. “The guy...that created you... _was_ Mercer? The _real_ one?” So Mercer wasn't Mercer, but rather his creation walking around in his body? This was something out of Frankenstein, or Dracula. Or maybe both.

“Irony sucks”, the terrorist shrugs. “Yes. I am walking around in my creator's body.” He spread his arms slightly. “But I guess that was the best course of action though. That bastard's dead, and I'm here.” He scoffed. “But then the island got locked off, quarantine went up. They rolled in, trying to stop me. But I was simply too efficient, all the people _dead_ without any of them able to spread me. The outbreak was over, had ended within _minutes_ after my release. Yet they still hunted after me, tried to capture me. They told their men I was going to infect the city, while at the same time, they were the ones who _wanted_ me created.”

Cole's brows furrowed. “Who are 'they'?” He asked.  _Blackwatch_ . Moya had said that name in a tone his own mother had talked about the boogeyman when he was younger. “Wait...Blackwatch?”

The growl he got was answer enough.

“Who are they?”

“Black ops. Specialists. Founded by DARPA in the sixties. Their job was to find biological weapons to use them on targets with a specific genetic traits. I guess it was to force Vietnam into submission.” He glanced at Cole, eyes hard. “They found a virus a few years later. Tested it on animals. It made them tougher. Smarter. Stronger. So they build a town in Idaho, infected the population with it. Nothing happened. Children got born- and all of them genetically _unique_ , having mutations like scales, armor, spikes. Though they didn't survive. The virus- it must have tried something. It had been smart enough to try mutations, but when the last kid died three years later, Blackwatch thought that the experiment was a failure. It wasn't.”

“And?” Cole didn't know where the other was going with that.

“The virus got into a woman, Elizabeth Greene. And in her it found its perfect host and its focus. It mutated suddenly, overran the town, infected the entire population- and forced Blackwatch out. It took them about half a year to finally breach the defenses and get to Greene. But instead of killing her, instead of killing the child she had birthed from the virus- Blackwatch took her and the child captive. After that, they changed their mantra, from creators of Bioweapons to those that fight them- but leopards don't change their spots.”

“Wait”, the courier's eyes narrowed. “And this _Greene_ , they used whatever she had...to cook up _you_?”

“Exactly”, was the reply. “I am the offspring of the Idaho strain. I am _Blacklight_ , I have been designed to target specific racial types- but as I said, I was _unfinished_ by the time Mercer released me. I killed everyone off, then took over his body and _became_ Mercer. Or a copy of him anyways. I found out Blackwatch had Dana, so I went to her and took her away, took her to safety. Because I wanted to _know_. Mercer was dead, and I didn't have any memories. I thought Dana would help me get them back.”

He eyed Cole, expression darkening. “I knew I had worked with Gentek. Blackwatch obviously did too, so I figured Gentek must have been the key. And there was only one name in my files other than my own:  _Elizabeth Greene_ .”

The courier sucked in air sharply. “The infected woman? She was there?”

“Yes. And when I tried finding out who I was, what happened to me- I set her free. And she, in turn, infected Manhattan.” He growled. “She was like Sasha in a way. The virus she spread- it didn't kill the people like I did. It twisted them, turned them into mindless drones bent to her will.”

Zombies. Well,  _why_ the Hell not? Cole grunted under his breath. “Blackwatch- did they know what was going on?”

Mercer chuckled. “Of course they did. Even had files on the difference between my strain and the one taking over the city. Hell, most of the commanders  _knew_ the facts. They still didn't give a fuck and tried to kill the infection as much as they wanted to kill me. They even made their own experiments, creating what they called Supersoldiers. D-Codes. Big, burly. Could happy-slap  _me_ through a wall.” His expression darkened. “It was  _fun_ .”

“I can guess”, the courier grumbled. “And Dana?”

Mercer's expression darkened even more, if it was possible. “I accidentally let slip what I really am, and left her to give her some space, scared what I'll find once I got back. But when I returned, she was still there, telling me that I was still her brother. She told me we were going to deal with this  _together_ .” His eyes suddenly flashed and tentacles snapped out of his clothes, curling through the air. “But  _Greene_ took her! One of her fucking pets broke down the wall and grabbed her, then dragged her through the city!” He hissed, trying to calm down. “I chased after it, but I couldn't stop it. It managed to shake me by luring me into an air strike.”

Cole winced. “Ouch. So you went up to that woman and ripped her head clean off?”

“Tried to”, was the honest answer. “But she simply threw even more pets at me and vanished. I killed all of these fucks and got Dana back, brought her to a doctor who helped me- and started working with a Blackwatch Captain named Cross.” He grunted. “He helped me find and kill Greene, and he helped me stop his boss from nuking the entire damn city.” Mercer scoffed. “And now we're here. On the run for three years now.”

Cole frowned. “Didn't you try to take them all out?”

Mercer barked a laughter, which sounded even scarier than his snarling and growling. “I did! I killed Gentek- those that employed Mercer and  _created_ this virus. I killed everybody who worked at the Idaho strain. Hell, I even chewed through a huge amount of Blackwatch. I unraveled all their secrets. But most of Blackwatch always managed to elude me.  _They_ are still alive. And I can't kill all of them, no matter how much I wish for it.”

“Then what chances do I have?” Cole asked, slightly startled by how defeated his own voice sounded.

“Your chance is better than mine.” Mercer told him. “I was hated by everyone and I didn't give a fuck- you are starting to get the support of this entire city. That is a big difference.” He snorted. “Even if DARPA was trying to get your head, if nearly ten million people are behind you, they can't harm you. Nobody will. The masses are stronger than the government, if they wish to do so.” He chuckled amused. “Not that they make a lot of use of it. Most of you humans are so _chicken_.”

There was a tense pause.

“You're not going to kill me now, are you?” Cole asked with a careful tone. He noticed Mercer's confused expression, so he clarified: “You know, in the movies, when the alleged terrorist reveals his origins, the other guy usually ends up dead.”

The other man blinked before his lips quirked up a bit in a sort of smile. “No. No. I don't want to kill you. You've revealed yourself to be a worthy ally. Unless you fuck up big time and sell me out to save your own sorry ass, I doubt you'll have anything to fear from me.”

“That didn't stop you mauling me three days ago.”

Mercer actually winced. “The attack on you- I had been too rash. But you need to understand: I leave one man with a radio alive to contact their HQ, and I'll suddenly had a whole fleet of Apaches on my ass. I learnt it from the first day on. When I was confused, weak and vulnerable- and this never went away. I had to destroy those men that called for back-up, or I would end up getting  _hurt_ .”

Cole blinked. “Wait. Wait- you mean you attacked me, you nearly  _broke my neck_ \- because you were  _scared_ ?”

“In a way...yes”, was the reply, and it actually sounded embarrassed. “I don't feel fear the way you do. Fear is a combination of the reaction towards stress and a mixture of hormones flooding the body. I however, don't have hormones. I can imitate a human body good enough to feel pain when I don't need to, I can imitate emotions- but I can not feel true fear. But psychologically? Yes, I was afraid you'd betray my position to Moya, knowing that if she knew she would call Blackwatch- so I acted. Knowing fear is a good motivation, I had no problem scaring you into submission either.”

He lifted his hand, cutting off the other's reply. “And I had been riled up already. Fighting is what I was  _made_ to do, enhances my reflexes and instinct- and I have been conditioned to jump guys with radios first. You were lucky you didn't wear an all-black uniform, s o I dragged you away instead of going straight for your life.”

“Yeah. Lucky”, Cole scoffed, rubbing his neck. “You could have killed me.”

“Compared to what I did to others, I was being pretty nice”, Mercer supplied with a deadpan voice. And shit. He meant it. Cole had seen him tear through men and metal alike, with or without those claws. He already knew he had gotten off easy. Especially since Mercer had been able to make his lightning attacks useless just by growing that armor.

He paused, blinking. “One question”, he started, “Your armor- how do you pull it on without destroying your clothes in the process?”

The other cocked his head. “My appearance means only little to me. I can manipulate my surface, every piece of my being. I told you, I am a virus. I am made of matter I can put into any form I like, including the imitation of clothes, or an armor.”

The younger frowned. A virus. That guy was a virus. A  _virus_ \- was something that  _infected_ . It didn't take a genius to figure out what he infected.  _Humans_ . After all, he claimed he had been made for that purpose. Cole didn't even assume that he would be lying- Mercer didn't seem like he would lie. He never said everything, but what Cole got to hear was always the truth. Plus the way things were starting to look now, all seemed possible.

Some things still didn't sit well with him, though. And he needed answers.

“The Reapers”, he started. “How did you know that they were mentally vegetables?”

Mercer arched his eyebrows at him, before it settled into a deep frown. From the expression, he wasn't so sure whether he really was going to tell him.

Cole exhaled. “I am a living battery. I draw electricity, store it, and give it off again. I have fought a mentally unbalanced woman that had tried to do both, rape and drown me in tar. Not necessarily in that order, though.” He rubbed his scalp. “I am pretty sure, at this point, I can take anything you throw at me.”

There was this scary half-smile again, and the terrorist's eyes glowed in the darkness. “Are you sure?” He drawled out. “Because this is what the entirety of  _Blackwatch_ was scared of. So scared, they pissed their collective pants at the mere thought of it.” He snorted amused. “Which is  _another_ reason they want my head.” The terrorist exhaled. “You know, I am not contagious- unless I have contact and am  _willing_ it.” Tentacles slipped from his leather-clad back. “Most of the time I'm touching humans, nothing happens. However if I  _want_ to infect them...” He trailed off.

“Infect...” Cole furrowed his brows. “You mean, you make them like you are?”

“In a way”, Mercer agreed. “I _could_ easily infect somebody with my strain, make them like I am. However”, he shrugged. “I have only done something like that once before- and that man is not even _close_ to what I am. The world wouldn't be able to sustain _two_ of my kind. Plus there's the chance the other won't be able to keep quiet like I do. No, this could risk another Manhattan.” There was another moment of silence, until Mercer continued with a more subdued voice.

“What I usually do when I infect others- I turn them into what I am made of- I turn them into _Blacklight_ _Biomass_.” He turned to Cole, eyes narrow. “But I don't allow them to leave my vicinity. Instead, I drag them in...add their mass to myself.”

The courier paled. “Holy”, he gasped, “You- you  _eat_ them?!”

Mercer nodded slowly. “In a way. It isn't  _eating_ the way you do. You consume food, break it down inside your body to gather the nutrients from inside, and use it to build up the cells in your body and generate power. I work different.” He inclined his head. “My body- it produces everything it needs by itself. It just needs  _energy_ to work with. I have a much higher efficency than any other living being on the world, I am capable of regenerating Biomass at a rate that allows me to grow from a literal  _puddle_ on the floor back into this shape within  _minutes_ . But for this, I need Biomass to start with, first.”

“It's a cycle”, Cole realized. “You have to-”

“Consume Biomass to convert it to energy in order to move, conduct my abilities, regenerate and keep my metabolism upright. At the same time, however, I can also directly use the Biomass I consume to fix my body. Since it is made of the same stuff I am, it is easy to direct it somewhere I need it. Tear off my arm, and I simply move the mass stored into place and form a new arm. Pry a hole in me- and I just move everything back into shape. Depending on my total mass and level of activity, I can go for weeks, maybe even _months_ without feeding. But I have to consume live mass in order to fuel myself.”

Cole swallowed. So the guy had to eat living humans in order to fuel himself. It should shock him, maybe send him panicking away or find creative ways to imply that Mercer wasn't something that was supposed to exist- and all he felt was the realization that there were a lot of sick and evil people in the world he could eat with nobody shedding a tear.

“Okay”, he managed to grit out, “That's pretty gross, but I don't see how some Black Ops bastards could view this as a viable threat. Plus it kind of didn't answer my question.”

“I already told you I can assume any shape I like. Though I work better when I have the full genetic blueprint. I get it easiest by consuming the person I want to imitate. But that is not all. If I consume a person, and I keep their brain intact- I can take their memories, their very _identity_. I take everything that's them and add it to myself. I become them in every sense of the word.”

Cole stepped back, eyes wide. “Is that possible?”

“Memories are just flesh in the end. Blacklight's good at making copies- then it destroys the original.” He paused suddenly, closing his eyes. “You remember the guy at Stampton Bridge?” He asked.

Cole frowned. “What guy? There have been a lot of guys.”

Mercer nodded. “The guy that ran away  _screaming_ . Remember him?”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

“I got to him”, he said, and it was almost too silent. “He came running down the area, and I was curious.” He didn't specify as his body suddenly erupted in thousands of tentacles, all running across his body in a wild, nauseating manner. Cole couldn't even see where his _head_ had been a short moment ago. The tentacles pulled back instantly, revealing...not Mercer.

Or, at least, not Mercer in his  _usual_ shape.

Cole hissed in surprise when a riot cop glanced at him. He was just as tall as Mercer had been, but much more buff- and the riot vest and helmet didn't even look remotely like his normal leather jacket and hoodie.

_I take everything that's them and add it to myself._ Cole backed off, eyes blown wide. Holy  _shit_ . He had meant it  _with every syllable._

Mercer could take  _any_ face he's  _eaten_ . No matter who you met- it could always be a thing lurking behind a familiar face, and nobody would know. The courier shivered and pulled back slightly. The guy he was in an alliance with- the guy that went around and  _helped_ others (in a violent and lethal way, but it was the thought that counts)- he  _murdered_ people and stole their faces, their very  _identities_ . Used them for a cheap disguise, before dropping it like trash. This not only gave him abilities, knowledge, experience- he could also get  _every secret_ he wanted. All he had to do was to find the guy who knew, or could know, and just devour him alive.

Cole felt his stomach drop and every drop of his blood had turned to ice along the line. This was so  _unreal._ Something like this wasn't supposed to exist. It  _shouldn't_ even exist in the mind of the most twisted mad scientist.

But the proof that it did exist was right in front of him.

Cole swallowed, trying to figure out what Mercer was thinking. It was hard- he didn't have many facial expressions, but he did seem like somebody who didn't trust anybody. And here- he just trusted him with the most damning truth somebody could hide.  _Him_ ! A bike courier!

He shook his head, trying to clear it. Why did he tell him that?

And why didn't he try to fry that thing with every ounce of his strength? Why was he even  _considering_ getting his help?

Cole felt sick to his stomach, realizing what the guy (virus, eldritch abomination, whatever) was planning. He had just given him access to the world's most deadly weapon. He had given him  _control_ over whatever he was (Blacklight? ZEUS? Moya called him that). And he expected him to do something about it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. It wasn't that easy, though. It was more like...Mercer  _wanted_ somebody to know this. The thing in front of him didn't move, asides from melting away and returning to his original shape, but he couldn't make out the expression on his face. He was expecting an answer.

And, despite everything, Cole knew what he would tell him.  _Hell yeah_ . Who was he kidding? These abilities were  _perfect_ . They could get information from anybody, from every foe. All Mercer had to do was to  _eat_ somebody. And that was where his brain came to a screeching standstill. To Mercer this was perfectly normal, to humans it was terrifying.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He suddenly felt very cold and exposed, standing there in just his pants.

“Did you ever kill innocents?” He asked. He _had_ to know.

“I have”, was the honest reply. “I am not proud of it”, Mercer added. “And many have only been in the wrong place at the wrong time. When I was injured and needed new mass. Or when I mistook them for somebody else.”

Cole groaned. “Shit.”

“But that had been in the past. My earliest days”, Mercer told him. “And I will not try to fall back to these days- but I can't promise it won't ever happen again.”

“You are killing bastards though, aren't you?”

“I do. I don't want anything to happen to Dana. I don't want these fucks take over the normal life. That's what I do- that's what I've done since Manhattan.”

That much was true. He'd done so here in Empire too- Reapers, Dustmen, criminals of all kinds- Cole exhaled.  _What was he even doing?_

“Okay”, he muttered. “Okay. Honestly- this whole thing is sick. Like eight different kinds, and that is just the most obvious.” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “But here I am- trying to survive in a city that wants me dead, so I guess I can cut you some slack.”

Mercer inclined his head, watching him.

The courier waved his hand through the air. “Just so we're clear- you keep your freaky infected shit off the people that won't harm you, me, Dana or Trish, and we won't have a problem.”

“You are aware I quite literally devour humans. Scores of them, yes?” Mercer wanted to know.

“Yeah. But hey- bastards had it coming”, Cole shrugged. “I mean, if they didn't start screwing shit up, then neither of us would have to kill them, correct? Every action has a consequence, right? And here, where big guys play with big guns, the consequences are a bit more _lethal_ , than normally.” He shrugged again, trying to banish that sick feeling that started to grow in his stomach. “Plus we all gotta eat, don't we?”

Much to his surprise, Mercer barked a laughter. It wasn't his usual creepy one, either, but rather something that did actually sound genuine. “You know”, he began, “You are the  _first_ one besides Dana to see it that way. Fuck, I can  _hear_ your heart racing, your blood roaring through your body. I  _know_ you are just as disgusted as everybody else is- but unlike them you just don't give a fuck about me actually consuming people. More even- you just gave me a go-ahead.”

“Eat and be eaten. Law of the jungle, man”, Cole replied, surprised how firm his voice sounded. Shit, he was talking to a genetically engineered man-eating viral weapon of mass destruction, one that had no problem being _just that_ , and he had seriously _no shit left_ to give about that. If that wasn't a solid glimpse into the wonderful messed up world of Cole MacGrath, then he didn't know what else would be.

He frowned. “As long you keep me in the loop of what you found, I won't stop you.” The courier paused, before he put his face into the best scowl he could manage despite the situation. “And if I tell you to leave them alone, you  _will_ do so, understood?”

Mercer glared at him for a moment, before he shrugged. “No problem there. Though-” He trailed off for a moment. “That goes both ways. If I want to consume somebody, and I have a damn good reason to, then you better not stop me.” His teeth were revealed in a nightmarish grin.

Cole flinched back again, as if realizing just now what he was talking to- a thing that  _ate_ people. For a moment, he really did. For a split second, he thought he was just talking to a scary conduit. Denial was a weird thing.

“Why haven't you eaten me back on that roof?” He asked.

The virus-in-a-human-shell-thing glanced at him. “I have sworn to Dana, and to myself, to never,  _ever_ consume those that don't deserve it.” He pointed at the courier. “And you don't deserve it. Anybody else with powers would use them to be better off, to subjugate others, maybe even with the best in mind. It's human nature, after all.” He trailed off. “You didn't- and you had  _every reason_ to do so. So no, I have no valid excuse to take you out of the equation and be done with it.”

Cole huffed out. “Well, good to know you got standards.”

“The world would be very dead very fast if I hadn't”, Mercer replied deadpan. They paused again, both glaring outside. They could see a few Dustmen lurking nearby, but the mere presence of the two who caused most damage to them was enough to keep them at distance.

“We have to end this”, Mercer grumbled. “We can't let this continue any longer.”

“Yeah”, Cole replied, glare darkening. “Alden pissed me off- he's the first to go.”

“Not only Alden.” Mercer answered. “Moya too. She doesn't want to admit it, but control's slipping out of her hands. Soon enough she will have to invade the city to remain at top and not be replaced for somebody else.”

“Can you take them if it gets tough?” Cole asked. He really didn't want to have to murder people doing their job, but if the question was them or Empire, then Empire was the answer. But better let that do the thing that had done this for longer than him.

“I could”, was the honest answer. “Fuck knows, I would _love_ to slaughter soldiers again, tear through tanks, pick gunships out of the air- chew through their ranks and watch them turn more paranoid as the time passes.” So it was _his_ work why the Dustmen were so jumpy. Huh. Cole could have guessed this- if he would be able to take over a person's face and memories, he surely would screw with them. 

“But”, Mercer continued, “I am afraid of what'll happens once they know I'm here.” He nodded towards the harbor, and the ships hidden in the dusk out there. “ _Blackwatch_ ”, he said. “The whole American military. _I_ can survive them. I always do. But Empire? Dana? You? Trish? Anybody else?” He shook his head. “ _If_ it comes to this, I will not hesitate. But I will also _not_ leave any witnesses.”

“Uh yeah. About that...” Cole cleared his throat. “If you don't like witnesses, then why the Hell did you flash your claws everywhere, or pull that bus off the roof?”

The terrorist shrugged. “Dana was on that bus, and when they shot at it, I just reacted. I already lost her once, I didn't want to lose her again, so I wanted them dead. Deader than dead. And when I get pissed, common sense doesn't get through to me anymore.” He huffed out. “And then I realized that none of you guys gave a solid fuck about this, figured either they didn't know, or they had noticed that I am the lesser of the evils around here.” He glanced at Cole. “Later, when I took out the Dustmen around here, all I noticed was... _gratefulness_ .” He snorted. “Me. And gratefulness. One of the guys wanted to  _shake hands_ .”

The courier blinked in confusion, before he choked back a snicker. “So, the big bad Terrorist of Manhattan is  _scared_ of people wanting to give hands. Good to know.”

“I'm not used to it”, Mercer replied with a half-hearted scowl. “I'm more used to the 'point-and-scream' routine. Hell, the first people who shot me in Manhattan were cops, and here- the cops are the first ones to tell me where the real bad guys are hiding.”

He frowned, and Cole noticed it was a helpless kind of frowning. “I'm not sure whether I like it.”

The courier tilted his head. “Not used to kindness?”

“Hell no. I'm a _weapon_. Everything I do _kills_ people. So no. I am not used to people being _friendly_ towards me.”

Cole grimaced. “Guess you can look at the bright side of life if there are a few who support you?”

Mercer snorted. “I don't care what others think about me, but hateful thoughts and rage towards me is easier to understand than  _kindness_ . Angry guys are honest, at least.”

Cole arched his eyebrows, but said nothing. Wonderful. He was working with a paranoid Lovecraftian virus in a human shell that got issues with issues.

But screw it- this was what his life was going to be now like. Cole no longer held any illusions that it was ever going to be  _normal_ again. Might as well screw everybody over who tried to tell him what to do. Moya, Kessler. Whoever thought they could use him like a cheap tool. He would show them. If they thought he was vulnerable, they were mistaken. Cole was tougher than he looked, and smarter than they gave him credit for.

With Mercer here, he also had the means to do so. And better yet, Mercer himself was only all too eager to destroy these bastards root and branch, so he wasn't  _using_ him or anything.

Cole was certain the other man was thinking something similar, though his expression was greatly hidden by his hood. To him, the city was too big, to Mercer, it was too dangerous to freely use his powers- but  _together_ they could do this.

It was  _ideal_ .

There was the click of a door opening, cutting his train of thoughts, and the two men glanced around. The frail and thin shape of Christine (Dana, Cole reminded himself, her name is Dana) appeared in the doorway. She looked worn down, with dark smudges around her eyes. She had cried, apparently.

“Alex?” She muttered, hugging herself.

Cole had never seen somebody change expression from half amused and scowly over to worried. “Dana?” Mercer approached her, head inclined to the side. “Is everything alright?”

She shook her head. “Nightmare”, she mumbled, before wrapping her arms around the man-eating viral weapon. Mercer furrowed his brows, glancing at his sister, before he turned to Cole. “You better get back to sleep”, he informed him. “There are still a lot of things left to do for tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I get you”, Cole nodded. This wasn't his place now, so he turned and went back to his original target: the bathrooms. He did throw a glance over his shoulder to see the leather-clad back vanish into the room Dana came from. He frowned.

Mercer had told him his origins, his true nature: He wasn't human, was a creature hiding as one, a unnatural predator designed by humans to hunt humans. And yet, when he was overly worried for a woman who wasn't even his real sister, when he took care of her and stuck around to soothe the nightmares, he didn't even  _seem_ like a monster anymore. He was simply a scary-looking older brother taking care of his younger sister.

It appeared that nothing was as it seemed. There were always things hidden beneath the surface- and he needed to find those things if he wanted to know everything. And suddenly, Zeke's paranoia made a Hell lot more sense than it did before.

He was really going to have to talk to him about this.

 


	17. Open Conspiracy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another slow chapter. Enjoy the peace while it lasts.

** Open conspiracy **

 

Alex had taken Dana back into her room and to her bed. He knew her nightmares had gotten quite infrequent, but from time to time they returned. He knew how to deal with her night terrors by now. All he had to do was to stay close to his little sister, because his vicinity soothed Dana's sub-consciousness enough to allow her to process any undesirable memories without her waking up screaming.

Usually it was enough to simply stay close, maybe hold her hand until she slipped off. Sometimes, however, she would absolutely  _refuse_ to let go of him and stay latched onto him to use him as a pillow of sorts. Which was the case tonight, judging by the way her fingers had dug into his sides. Not that Alex was unable to free himself- his naturally fluid body could easily escape the grasp, or he could simply pry Dana off, but he was aware that psychologically, it was better for her if he stayed close. He was her security, and, according to her, it was something she and the real Alex used to do when they were children. Back when everything was still better for the both of them. Before he left her behind.  
Alex would never forgive that fucker for abandoning her. How could he do that to his precious little sister?

“I'm sorry”, Dana mumbled, mushing her faces against his chest. “You probably want to run around out there, murder some of these fucks, right?”

He huffed out and pulled her closer, careful to not hurt her. “You are more important to me”, he replied. “So I'll stay.”

“Sorry”, she muttered again. “But when that old coot lifted the bus-” She swallowed hard, “I remembered that fucking thing that broke down my wall.”

Alex's brows furrowed. The Leader Hunter. It had been the source and the most tenacious of her nightmares. He blamed himself for this. For not having pulled her away when he first heard it clawing at the walls. For not having managed to catch it and free her. For not having gotten her back  _fast_ enough.

He still didn't know what Greene did to his little sister back in that Hive. He had her memories, but like in all Infected, they were mostly just flashes, and vague pictures, with her clearest memories being from her time before Redlight got to her. That was another reason why Alex was glad Dana chose to stick around with him, taking all disadvantages in strife. That way, he could keep an eye on her health, and make sure Greene stayed dead.

Alex settled down at the head end of Dana's bed, pulling her against his chest as she curled up. A few of his tendrils slipped out of his skin, tangling into her hair.

“You'll have to dye soon enough again”, he mentioned, pulling some strands upwards.

“Guess so”, his little sister mumbled. “Though I'm sick of long hair.” She sniffed. “Can you cut it?”

Alex inclined his head. He  _did_ eat a barber or two, and he had helped his sister with her disguises ever since Manhattan. He gave in. “Once this is over, okay?”

“Thanks. I like myself better with short hair.”

They fell back into a comfortable silence, before Dana spoke up again.

“Alex?”

“Mhm?”

“I found some stuff”, she told him, voice heavy with sleep. “On my laptop. You can look at it, if you want to.”

“Guess I'll do”, Alex shrugged. “But I'm not going anywhere.”

“Made the nightmares jus' worse”, his sister added with a drawl. Alex immediately went still.

“Dana? What do you mean?”

Dana's only reply was something unintelligible, and her breathing quickly evened out. Alex watched her with a frown, before he slowly put his chin on her head to wrap around her even more. Usually, humans being  _this_ close meant to consume them. Dana was the  _only_ exception to this case. The  _only_ one who didn't have anything to fear of him.

He shifted a little, glancing over to where Dana's laptop is sitting on the desk, before he unraveled his Biomass from his shoulders to grab it from across the room. Creepy as fuck, as Dana would put it, but to him it was only an highly efficient way to pick things up without having to actually move.

Alex propped the laptop up on his tendrils (and on Dana's back, admittedly) and switched it on. He smiled a little when he saw her screen saver, that one picture they've taken at Mount Charleston. They've been skiing to take a little break from their escape through the states, and both were dressed in warm winter gear, grinning at the camera. Well, Dana was grinning. Alex did try to smile, though it came out more like an half-assed smirk. Dana always said that this was her favorite picture of them.

He started clicking through different hidden menus, to find the ones Dana labeled 'DARPA' and 'First Sons'. She had been busy, he noticed with a frown. Dana being this busy meant she had barely slept. Alex knew his sister well by now. If she couldn't sleep, she usually hacked into secure servers. And this sheer amount of data here meant she hadn't been able to sleep very well. He glanced down at his sister, who was still wrapped around his chest, breathing evenly and deep.

“You could have told me”, he muttered a little bit reproachful, “I would have stuck around if I knew.”

Dana didn't reply. Alex turned his attention back to the information she had dug up. She must have spend a serious amount of time on the DARPA servers, and she had copied a lot of data off them. He knew it had been dangerous, she could have gotten discovered only all too easily. Dana was careful, no question, but with Moya here...like Dana said, that woman's a blood hound.

His brows furrowed when he noticed the remark 'Moya's personal log'. He clicked it.

The longer he read, the darker his thoughts became. Tendrils were rising all over his surface, coiling through the air or snaking along Dana. His little sister had found everything: from the first days Moya started working with DARPA to the Dead Drops MacGrath had found and send her. All of it was there, and Alex stared at a large part of what had happened. The  _truth_ .

Dana was right when she said this was going to cause nightmares.

Thousands were dead, the entire city was dying-  _what for_ ?!

For  _exactly_ the same reasons Manhattan died for.  _Exactly_ the same. 

Alex wanted nothing more than get out of here and start  _murdering_ any DARPA agent he found. He wanted to eradicate the entire organization to make sure Manhattan and Empire would  _never_ be repeated.

But he knew better. He  _couldn't_ do this. Not so much from the lack of power or abilities, but rather because of the lack of back-up. If he attacked DARPA, then the entire government would be on his ass. He couldn't just murder his way through them, not without the population  _knowing_ what was going on. Not without the truth being in plain view.

Alex hated playing by the rules, but he didn't have a saying in this matter.

No. The only way to end this was to make everybody  _see_ the truth. Only when they had done their judgment these bastards were free to take. Not a moment earlier.

He continued skimming through the data, and his resolve to murder everybody included skyrocketed. Seriously, these fucks were going down.

He growled under his breath as he held Dana closer to himself, but remained mindful to  _not_ accidentally hurt her. MacGrath needed to know what she found. They would have to talk to him tomorrow.

* * *

 

Dana marched through the hallways of the Bayview hospital, and glanced into every room. She had awoken to Alex looking like he seriously wanted to murder someone. Her laptop was back on the desk, but in a different position. So it was pretty obvious he had checked out what she found, and didn't like it. That was fine, she didn't like it either, so when Alex told her that Cole needed to know too, she wasn't too surprised.

Only problem was Cole was nowhere to be found. Alex told her he couldn't smell him anywhere in the hospital, so they went to look for Trish. And Trish luckily was around. So Dana tried it this way. She was aware that Alex could probably figure out where Cole was, but after Alden- she didn't want to be left alone again. So her big brother followed after her, in his disguised shape, ever silent and watchful.

“Trish?” Dana peeked through the door into the lunch room.

The brunette nurse lifted her head. “Christine?” She got up, worry all over her face. “Are you alright?”

Dana nodded. “Don't worry. I'm okay. Just a little panic attack.”

Trish arched her eyebrows. “Really? Cole said he met you during the night, because you couldn't sleep either.”

The younger Mercer sibling shrugged. “Yeah. Nightmares are a deal with me. But don't worry. I'm fine.”

The nurse exhaled in relief. “Good to hear.”

“Yeah”, Dana grimaced slightly. “Listen. I have to talk to Cole. Do you know where he is?”

Trish frowned, tilting her head. “He's checking up on Zeke. Why?”

Dana squirmed. She didn't want the other woman any reason to believe she was up to something. But she needed to talk to Cole, and Trish did deserve the truth. “I kind of...well...” She inhaled and mentally prepared herself. “To be brutally honest, I  _hack_ . Secure servers, public servers- nothing is safe from me. Just...” She exhaled. “I was on Moya Jones's servers, and the shit I found there makes my skin crawl. I'm sure Cole would love to hear it.”

She didn't really like the way Trish eyed her. She was smart, way smarter than most people would give her credit for, and she easily recognized the glance she got from the nurse.

Trish's eyes narrowed. “That's an awfully handy ability to have, Christine”, she mumbled. Dana noticed how Alex huffed out and shuffled his feet, seemingly being just as nervous as she felt. But Dana Mercer wasn't a coward.

“It's not everything”, she said, glancing around to check whether there was anybody around. “Trish, I...I've not been _really_ honest with you.”

Alex snorted in surprise, his head whipping up to her. Dana just flicked her fingers in his face, motioning for him to stay the  _fuck calm_ , because he would made things just worse. “I...” Dana inhaled to steel her resolve. Trish was her best friend, and she could  _do_ this.

“My name isn't Christine Kings”, she told her, watching her expression. Trish merely arched an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Dana figured this was a good sign, so she pressed a little further. “It's kind of like a witness-protection-program. Only that I am hiding _from_ the government.”

“Oh”, Trish looked surprised, then careful. “What for?” Her eyes widened. “Shit, are you a killer or something?”

Dana shook her head vigorously. “No. No. I never harmed anybody in my life. Except for Jimmy Simms in high school, but fucker had it coming.” She noticed Alex nudging her side, and she caught sight of his eyes.  _What the fuck are you doing?_ She flicked his nose slightly to make him shut up, before she continued. “The reason I'm hiding is because I protect my family, Trish.”

“Family? You always said you had none left?”

“Well, no parents”, Dana shook her head. “But I still have a brother. And I'm in trouble if anybody figures out where we are.”

Trish made a little 'Oh' sound in her throat, expression turning slightly relaxed. “So you try to protect your brother. That's a good cause. Mostly.” She furrowed her brows. “He is, hopefully, not a bad person?”

Dana grimaced. “Well, that actually  _depends_ ”, she managed to press out. Oh fuck, this was a train wreck just waiting to happen. “I mean, depending on whether you were one of the guys trying to scapegoat my brother, or the guys actually  _shooting_ him, or the guys caught in between all that shit.” She sighed, trying to sound as logical as possible. “Yeah, he's actually a nasty fuck, but whatever he was said to have done- it was all a lie. He's still the better choice compared to these bastards.”

Trish crossed her arms. “Christine,  _out_ with it.”

Dana exhaled again. “Okay. Okay. The guy from yesterday? The one that  _ran_ besides the bus and maimed those idiots with just his fists?”

Trish blinked. “The one with the claws?” She shuddered, “I remember him. Wasn't he the one who made also sure the clinics had whatever supplies got dropped into Empire?”

Dana nodded. “That's him.” She set her jaw and locked gazes with Trish. “ _That_ is my brother.”

Trish's eyebrows shot upwards, nearly merging with her hairline. “Christine- your brother has abilities like Cole?”

“Not _like_ Cole. He wasn't in any blast and he had his way longer than Cole has, but at the most basic, yes.” The younger Mercer sibling licked her suddenly very dry lips. “The truth is- we are from _Manhattan_.”

Trish sucked in air with a hissing sound, eyes wide. Dana sighed. “My brother and I- we escaped the lockdown that went on there,  _and_ we took a lot of sensible data from those guys that didn't want anyone to know what went on with us. That's why we are hiding, or at least, part of the reason. The other part is my brother himself.”

She heard Alex making a noise of protest, though until now he didn't drop his disguise. Luckily. She really hoped he wouldn't change into his normal form that soon, because they really didn't need Trish running and screaming.

She had to calm the situation before, so she locked gazes with the older nurse. “My real name is Dana.” She told her. “Dana A.  _Mercer_ . My brother is  _Alex J. Mercer_ .... the Terrorist of Manhattan.”

Trish stepped back, eyes blown wide, one hand in front of her mouth to stifle any sound she could be making, but she didn't run away, so Dana was willing to see it as chance.

She quickly lifted her hands in a soothing gesture. “I know what you're thinking. Alex's been declared the most wanted man on the world, at least until he 'died'. Well, I know he's still alive and well, and those Black Ops fucks do it too.” It felt weird talking about Alex when he was literally right next to her, but Trish didn't know it was him when he was in that form. Dana squirmed and grimaced as she continued. “But- the thing that went on with Alex is  _exactly the same_ that went of with Cole. Alex was actually the one to  _fix_ Manhattan, stop the infection. You know the nuke? Alex had taken it off the military to prevent them from glassing the Big Apple, but everybody still blamed  _him_ for what happened. They declared him the most wanted man in the world, organized a witch hunt. We escaped and hid away, lying low to prevent them from finding us. And then, just as we were finally in a safe place, he rushed back and took out the second infection too, preventing even more people from dying. Didn't make him any more popular, though.” She sighed. “I know you probably won't believe me, but please, just try to understand.”

Trish was trembling, though she did try to calm down. “I- I don't know”, she finally admitted. “We all heard the stories of Manhattan. The military fighting against some sort of... _monsters_ there. Millions of people dead...” She trailed off, before her gaze hardened. “And you  _did_ lie to me, though I do understand why.” She looked over her shoulder nervously. “And I  _have_ seen that guy- your brother- take out any and all opposition to protect us. And, quite honestly, it did scare me, but I could see he was on our side. On  _Cole's_ side. So yes- I do believe you.” She lifted a finger. “But I do want to see proof, Christin-  _Dana_ .”

Dana exhaled in relief, before a grin appeared on her lips. “Don't worry”, she exclaimed, patting her computer bag. “I have everything you want to see. Alex has a copy of what I have too, so if you want to, you can look at what we discovered. But-” She glanced around. “Not here. We better get over to Cole and Zeke. Make sure they are present for the big reveal.”

She could see slight hesitation in Trish's eyes. She knew she was confused and scared, but when she moved into her direction, Dana knew that she still trusts her. After seeing her boyfriend turn into a superhuman, she assumed, nothing could shake her anymore.

She flicked her fingers at Alex and he set into motion after them, silently. Like a shadow.

* * *

 

They arrived at Zeke's and Cole's apartment in record time. They had hitched a ride with that correction officer, Harms, as he headed over to the Neon. Alex was with them in the back of that pickup truck, silent, just watching the area. Trish was leaned against him, not realizing she was hugging the Terrorist of Manhattan with one arm, as she glanced at Dana. Dana couldn't blame her for being out of the loop. She hoped she'll come around once she saw what was on her laptop.

This entire shit made her stomach turn. But again, it only showed mankind's true face. The greed, the desire for power.

After Manhattan, Dana thought they've learnt. But they didn't.

It only made her angrier.

She caught sight of Trish's expression and sighs. “I am so sorry”, she muttered, “For not having told you. I didn't want to lie to you.” She furrowed her brows unhappily. “You've been the first real friend I had after nearly three years of running away. And...I guess I blew it, huh?”

Trish blinked, before she suddenly chuckled. “No. No, you haven't.” She smiled, though it did come out forced. “I know why you've done that. You were  _scared_ . So you did what everybody would have done, right?” She shook her head. “No, I'm not angry at you.”

Dana blinked before she more or less lunged over, hugging the nurse with all her might. Alex made a disgruntled noise, lips curling away from his teeth when she accidentally smacked him in the head with her wrist. Trish laughed. “Holy shit, you're a clingy sort, Dana”, she commented, trying to pry the younger woman off.

“Don't try it”, Dana warned her, “I can hold to a grown person for up to three hours before I get exhausted. Just ask Alex. He can confirm.”

“Speaking of him...” Trish glanced around nervously. “ _Where_ is he?”

Besides them, Alex huffed out, turning his attention back to the buildings rushing past. Dana shrugged. “Oh. He's around. Don't worry.”

“Exactly _that_ makes me worry. He could _carry an entire bus_ , for God's sake. What superpowers else does he have?”

Dana winced. Trish  _did not_ want to know what Alex could do. Still, she should maybe tell her  _something_ . “Asides from those fucking machetes on his hands? Being alarming. Being creepy. Ninja-like movement if he wants to. Casually throwing around cars. Making an entire Black-Ops Special Kill team piss their pants in fear at the mere  _thought_ of him.” Her expression darkened. “Just pray to God you never see him when he's  _pissed off_ . Holy shit. People die when he is pissed off.”

Trish grimaced. “I just take your word for it.”

The truck pulled to a stop next to the building Cole and Zeke lived in. Dana glanced at street around them, watching how the civilians already started removing the trash cluttered around. They did try to get their lives back in order, but it was a slow process.

Plus the lack of food was beginning to become apparent. The supply drops became less frequent ever since, and even though they were now fighting the remaining Reapers tooth and nail, it simply wasn't enough.

This lockdown had to end soon.

Dana, Trish and Alex climbed off the truck bed. “Thanks, warden”, Trish said through the open window. The older dark-skinned man smiled at her. “It's always a pleasure, Ms. Dailey. Just give me a call when you want to get back.”

“We will. Thanks again”

The warden pulled away, and Trish opened the door to the building. Dana scrunched up her nose, remembering the first time she'd been here. The stairwell was still covered with graffiti, there were trashcans in the corners and she could see giant-sized cockroaches scuttle around. Yup. This was actually a trash heap masquerading as an apartment building, just what she expected from a bunch of bachelors.

The three of them headed up the stairs in relative silence, with only their shoes clacking against the stained linoleum floor. “I really hope Cole's still around”, Dana mentioned. “Because fuck it if he's already off. I'm not going to chase him through this shit hole of a city.”

“I don't think”, Trish pointed out. “He told me he and Zeke had an argument yesterday, and he's probably trying to fix things.” Trish rang the doorbell. “They'll be there, and then you hopefully let us see some facts.”

“Don't worry”, Dana replied. “I trusted you, now you'll trust me.” The door swung open, revealing Zeke.

Cole's best friend blinked in confusion. “Trish?!”

“Hey Zeke. Is Cole there?”

Zeke blinked again, then stepped back and turned around. “Yo, Cole! It's Trish!”

“Trish?!” The courier peeked around the corner, expression confused.

Dana chuckled under her breath. Impossible how both guys could have the exact same reaction. She cleared her throat. “Not only Trish”, she explained, pushing herself into the apartment. She beamed at them. “Just stopping by for a visit.”

Zeke blinked. “Hey- you're that other nurse”, he pointed out. “Christine, right?”

“Yes”, Dana replied, pushing past Zeke, but she kept a hand on the door to keep it open.

Allowing Alex to enter.

“Jesus!” Zeke squeaked and jumped back at the sight of her brother's disguised shape. Alex glanced at the fat man as he moved inside. Cole frowned, exchanging glances between his friend and her brother. Zeke started squealing for someone to stop him, while Alex only grinned and slowly approached the man. Dana sighed on the inside and grabbed at him to make him stop. He glared at her offended. He _lived_ for scaring people, but they had to draw a line here. _Don't fucking dare scaring that poor guy to death._

“Don't scare Zeke”, Dana told her brother sharply, before turning to the cowering fat man. “And you, don't freak out. He can smell fear, you know?”

“Sorry”, Cole's roommate replied, “But I don't really work well with these things” He swallowed. “Okay, those tiny jippin' mutts maybe, but not somethin' like _this_!”

“Zek”, Cole threw in, “Don't you worry. He's pretty much the nicest guy around.” He knelt down next to Alex with a grin, patting his head. “Aren't you?”

_Don't you fucking dare say something, Alex._

Dana grimaced and noticed Cole's phone on the table, and his bag sitting on the floor besides the couch. She edged over to the kitchenette. “You know, Trish and I thought we could just hang around with you guys.” She pulled off her jacket and flung it on the table, burying the phone beneath.

She hoped it would be enough to muffle most sounds as she turned to the courier and his friends. “But actually”, she continued, and her voice was firm now. “It's not a pure friendly visit.” Dana pulled out her laptop and set it up, shoving her jacket with the phone into the now empty bag.

Cole must have noticed it, because his eyes narrowed, though he remained kneeling in his position. “No? Then out with it, what is this about?”

“The Ray Sphere, MacGrath” Dana nearly snapped her neck from how fast she whipped her head around, eyes wide at the sound of her brother's voice.

Cole had frozen and was now  _very_ slowly turning his attention to Alex, who he was still kneeling besides. Alex was grinning, tendrils running over his back. “Everything about the Ray Sphere. About the First Sons. About  _Kessler_ .” His eyes flashed. “Interested?”

* * *

 

Cole had come to Zeke to talk to him about this whole situation. He was aware his friend just wanted to help, but it was much too dangerous for him in the thick of battle. He didn't want to lose him, but he just couldn't get himself to tell him just that. All he could say to him was that he had to be careful about what he did.

The doorbell chiming startled him slightly, mainly because who the Hell would want to visit them when the city was going to shit?

Zeke went to open the door, surprised to find Trish on the other side. And Trish wasn't alone, either. Cole's eyebrows went up when he noticed Dana Mercer following her.  _Okay, what was she doing here?_

His confusion was cut short when Zeke jumped back with a startled scream. Cole instantly jumped into action, but cut himself off quickly when he saw Dana's big black dog Commander coming through the door. Zeke immediately hid behind the couch, yelling at him to get the dog away. Right. Zeke was scared of dogs. Cole grimaced awkwardly, though didn't need to intervene when Dana pulled the beast away. In contrast to his friend, he was quite fond of dogs. His family did have a few, and he liked them a lot better than cats. Cats were assholes, dogs are your best friends.

So he couldn't stop himself from kneeling down and tickling his fingers along Commander's ears, relishing in how they twitched and how warm the fur felt.

Dana flung her jacket on their table, and he realized that she had targeted his phone. She was  _aware_ that Moya was listening- and she cut the woman off without being obvious.

And then her entire demeanor changed. Her eyes darkened and started burning with the same intensity he'd seen on Mercer himself. “It's not a pure friendly visit”, she told them, and her tone was completely serious, not any longer the pleasant light chat it had been before.

Cole furrowed his brows, attention on her. She was smart, and she worked with Mercer, who had already uncovered a lot of secrets. The idea that she found something more was obvious.

“No?” Cole inclined his head, “The out with it, what is this about?” He really wanted to know. Plus, if she had her computer with her, it surely had to be something more _concrete_.

“The Ray Sphere, MacGrath”, Cole's brain came to a sudden screeching standstill. Dana's head whipped around so fast she probably dislocated a vertebra or something. His own senses ran havoc, as he felt something _shift_ beneath his fingers.

He slowly glanced down to the dog, startled to see pale blue eyes glance up at him.  _Near human_ eyes. Those black tentacles were wrapped almost gently around his fingers, as the dog continued with Mercer's voice. “Everything about the Ray Sphere. About the First Sons. About  _Kessler_ .” He inclined his head. “Interested?”

Cole jerked back as if burnt, while the dog chuckled in a low tone. Tentacles snapped out of its fur, coiling through the air, before the entire thing turned into a mess of black and gray and red, dripping like wax as its solid form dissolved.

There was a God-awful sound, like wet flesh tearing and sliding across itself when the mass pulled itself into a standing position and settled back into a condensed form. Tentacles flattened and spread, turning smoothly into vast expanses of what looked like leather, denim and pale skin.

Mercer flashed his teeth down at Cole, who just sat there and stared. Okay, he  _had_ seen the guy transform into a riot cop, but  _that_ ?! That was just plain creepy.

The courier managed to work his tongue, however. He did intent to say something along the lines of 'Don't do that again!', or various choice explicits, but what he managed to say was “Holy shit! I actually liked  _petting_ you!!”

* * *

 

Dana had been upset. Really upset. Alex merely shrugged her angry yelling off. Seriously, where was the problem? As far as he was concerned, these three here were  _allies_ . Plus, they should hurry with the whole ordeal of telling them the truth about Moya and DARPA, so this bitch wouldn't become too suspicious of prolonged silence from their end.

“Seriously, Alex!” Dana snapped, “I had everything under control here! Why the fuck did you do that?!”

He glanced at her. “There is not much time, Dana. I don't want Moya to have any reason to believe we are working against her.” He thrust his chin into the direction of the laptop. “Finish this, there is still a lot to do.”

Dana inhaled sharply, but cut herself off. She dropped into the chair and started fiddling with her laptop, muttering explicits under her breath. Alex turned his attention to the other three, who were in varying states of shock. MacGrath was still on the floor, brows drawn together and not quite sure yet whether to be angry or confused. Dailey was squeezed against the wall, eyes blown wide while she was struggling to not faint or scream.

Dunbar however... Alex frowned at the fat man. He was still cowering behind the couch, though his eyes seemed to...sparkle, for some reason. Alex furrowed his brows and turned to face him fully, earning a startled gasp from Dailey.

“Ohmygosh”, Dunbar whispered, slowly moving from behind the couch. “Ohmygosh- It's you!” His expression turned _giddy_. Alex frowned as the fat man turned to MacGrath, arms flailing. “Cole, man! Why didn't you tell me you knew _Alex Mercer_?!”

Both men's head snapped to Dunbar, who looked even more giddy than ever.  _How does this guy-_

“Zeke- _How_?!” Was all MacGrath managed to get out.

“Aw, c'mon!” Dunbar grinned, walking right _into_ Alex's personal bubble. “I told you I have connections. Hah. And you always said I'm paranoid!” He jabbed his finger into Alex's chest, attention on his roommate. Alex snarled and pulled back. He _did not_ like being touched.

“That guy here!” Dunbar continued, oblivious to the man-eating viral weapon across from him, “That guy is the sole reason the Dark Net _exists_! Hell! All those stories I told you?”

MacGrath made a choking noise, eyebrows furrowed, but Dunbar didn't let him talk.

“Your buddy's in the same boat as you!” The fat man exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air (nearly smacking Alex in the head, but he leaned out of the way quick enough). “You know the shit that went down over in Manhattan? Well, everybody's going on how Mercer was the one to screw that up, when in reality he was the one to actually _safe_ the place, you know?” He suddenly whirled around, eyes glowing. “Yo. What they said about that nuke- you did take it to the face and walked away from it?”

Alex scowled, trying to hide his confusion. He certainly did not expect  _that_ . Dunbar nodded sagely. “Yeah, so you bein' here means you did take a nuke to the face. Man, that's badass.”

The Runner frowned only deeper, while MacGrath and Dailey both blinked in confusion. Dunbar didn't seem to notice.

“The thing they say about you? That you took down some serious Black Ops shit? Man, that is even more badass. Hell! You scared them outta their minds, didn't you?” He sighed. “Wish I had this kind of power.”

Alex's frown turned into a snarl, second before his arms rippled and twisted into his wicked claws. Grabbing Dunbar was easy, holding him aloft too. He was easily one and a half heads taller than the fat man, after all, and with him having the strength to casually throw tanks around, an overweight human wasn't too hard. Dunbar had gone rigid, eyes blown wide at the sight of his lethal claws, orange spots burning along the strands of Biomass to show just how pissed he was.

“You _don't_ ” He hissed, his voice dropped to a low growl. “Don't you ever wish you were like me, because you _won't_.”

“Alex”, Dana's voice cut into the tense silence sharply. “Don't harm Zeke.”

The Runner snarled, baring his teeth, unwilling to let his prey go. That was until a hand coated in sparks dropped on his shoulder, and MacGrath appeared next to him, expression stern and lightning covering his body. “Let him go”, he ordered with a low tone.

Alex glared at him, before stepping back and dropping the fat man. “Let this be a warning, Dunbar”, he sneered, “My powers were what caused Manhattan in the first place, killing millions.  _I_ killed thousands myself, and I can still hear their screams. I am not somebody you should ever look up to.”

He pulled away and marched over to where his sister was sitting, curling his talons over the backrest of her chair to loom over her.

Dana sighed, and waved them over. MacGrath approached the table, without any fear on his expression, while Dailey and Dunbar followed more reluctant.

“I promised information”, Dana told them, eyes hard as she turned her laptop around for them to see. “And here they are. All of these are from the DARPA servers, and especially the servers Moya has control over. I'm not going to bore you with _how_ exactly I managed to do that. Let's just say there were a lot of close calls and sleepless nights involved.”

The courier frowned. “Is this legit?”

“It is”, Alex ground out. “From what I have learnt about them, anyways.”

Dailey made a startled noise, eyes wide as she tapped the touch pad to open a file. “This-” she gasped, “This is how Cole got his powers.” Her eyes widened. “Transferring neural energy from a non-conduit to a conduit...” She whipped around. “This... _Kessler-_ he killed thousands to give you your power?!”

MacGrath deflated. “He did”, he replied, “But I don't know  _why_ .”

“But you know”, Dana cut in, “Without DARPA, the First Sons wouldn't even _have_ that Ray Sphere.”

Alex scowled as his sister pulled up the pages of bank accounts and so on. He had seen it before, and this was what made him so  _enraged_ . DARPA had approached the First Sons and their leader, Kessler. Had offered him money. Money he took only too happily- under the order to create a weapon. Or something to make weapons.

_Human_ weapons.

Conduits.

Alex's claws cut into the plywood of the chair as the orange biolumniscent areas around his limbs started burning even brighter. MacGrath- he was the same as he was. DARPA had paid the First Sons to create a weapon, the Ray Sphere. But then, the creator of the Ray Sphere, Kessler, decided to unleash it early, resulting in the loss of life, and the creation of a super-powered person.

_He_ had been born the same way.

Dana snorted angrily. “What has happened here- it happened in Manhattan too”, she told them darkly. “Like, exactly the same shit. Minus the zombies.”

The Runner nodded, growling under his breath. “That's not the only thing”, he told them. “The guns. Didn't you wonder where they come from?”

Dailey frowned at him. “You are going to tell it to us, aren't you?”

“A general named Bridges ordered them”, the Blacklight Prototype explained. “But, according to these files, it was _Moya_ who had him order them.”

“Why?” Dunbar burst out. “What for?”

“To create a testing area”, Alex pointed out. “To _make_ you use your powers, MacGrath. To _force_ you increase your strength and abilities.”

“Why?!” MacGrath wanted to know. “What for?! I'm a damn _courier_!”

“This Moya-” Dailey swallowed, “The Ray Sphere- it can be used as a weapon, correct? Does this woman want to use _Cole_ as a weapon too?” She pressed herself against the courier, who draped an arm around her shoulder to calm her down.

“She does”, Alex pointed pout. “This isn't in the files, though, but it's pretty obvious, if you ask me. The first time you did exactly what she told you, MacGrath.” He cocked his head. “People usually do whatever they are told if they believe it'll help them. And if not...” He leaned over, tendrils crawling over the laptop to tap a few keys. “This here suggests DARPA also had the First Sons work in something else. _Mind Control_.”

“Sasha's Tar”, the courier inhaled sharply. “Shit, Sasha _worked_ with the First Sons on mind controlling technologies.”

“And we know its hallucinogenic properties work with _you_ too”, Alex explained. “So it's not too far-fetched to assume they are working on other technologies to subjugate even you to their will.”

“Your powers are far too great for these fucks to let you go unnoticed”, Dana added with a dark scowl. She snorted. “And there's the thing with the guns again. I have the feeling there's even _more_ to them.”

“Uh, what about _bein'_ in control?” Dunbar asked, “I mean, if Moya wants to control Cole, then why throw him to the wolves?” He propped his arm against his elbow, thinking. “What if, you know, she wants to show her bosses that she has a total awesome guy doing her every biddin'?”

The courier whipped around. “Zeke!” He called out, “Shit, that's the reason!” His eyes darkened rapidly. “ _If_ she wants to parade me around like a damn trophy, then I wouldn't be worth  _anything_ if there wasn't a damn good story behind it. But if I can take down  _an entire city_ worth of foes...”

“Exactly what I'm sayin' brother!” Dunbar puffed out his chest. “Plus, if Moya can deal with a situation as worse as here- takin' down bad guys left and right- then what do you think will happen? A big fat _promotion_ is waitin' for her!”

“How does Kessler fit into this?” MacGrath asked. He pulled his lips away in a snarl. “I met him. Back when I took out those tar kegs on the water towers. He-he attacked me.” He inhaled sharply. “Showed me some kind of vision. I am _certain_ he has something to do with the Sphere, and I don't meant that he was the one to build it. _He_ put everything into motion.”

“What do we know about this guy?” Dunbar wanted to know.

“He suddenly appeared decades ago, took over the First Sons and booted the original leader, Richard Tate from his throne”, Alex told them. “He used DARPA to fund his work with the Ray Sphere that went on for _years_. They started with the mind controlling technologies.” He inclined his head. “And it seems he has a strong interest in you, MacGrath. He wants something of you, though _what_ , I'm not sure.”

“This entire situation is going to become a whole lot worse”, the courier noticed with a dark frown. “A whole lot before it'll get easier again.”

“Shit man”, Dunbar threw in. “What are we s'posed to do about this?”

“Stop them”, MacGrath growled. “End them. Take this entire thing apart.” His eyes flashed. “Dana. Zeke. Can you take care that what you found here will end up in the right places? Moya thinks she is in power, but she isn't.”

“She's not”, Alex agreed. “We just have to outlast her. And, once there is a crack in her armor, we can go for the kill.”

Dana glanced at the three across the table. “What do you say?”

The courier snorted, eyes dark. “The answer is: I'm in. Kessler and Moya are playing around with  _my_ life. Thousands are dead because of them. That is why they are going  _down_ .”

 


	18. Terrorized Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that everyone is on the same picture, let's torture some more Dustmen.

**Terrorized Streets**

 

Cole was back in the Warren, taking care of the Dustmen around. He had to blow off some steam, after everything they had been told. He hadn't been aware how deep this entire thing went. Kessler was behind everything- he  _wanted_ Cole to use his powers. But  _why?_

He was pretty certain it wasn't to sway him to his side. God Damnit, he hated the bastard too much. What other reason was there, though? If Kessler wanted him to  _kill_ him, well, he didn't need any more persuasion to  _do_ just that.

He glared at the sky above. It was darkening again. Huh. Funny. He could've sworn it had  _just_ been day. Of course, time passes if you have  _fun_ , especially when this fun included a copious amount of trauma.

He paused, thinking back to the big reveal. All of them had reacted differently. He had been more or less prepared for this entire thing because he and Mercer had been talking the night before. After learning that that guy was basically a disease joyriding around in a dead man's body, there wasn't much left that could really surprise him.

Zeke had been incredibly excited. His giddiness had been momentarily halted when he got manhandled by that viral super weapon, but in the end this was an even greater reason to be exhilarated. “I survived being held aloft by  _the_ Alex Mercer, Cole!”, he had said, bouncing in his seat, “Oh, I'll never forget about this.” 

Trish...Cole frowned. Actually, all things considered, Trish had taken it all pretty well. If one took a moment to think that her best friend was actually the sister of the most wanted man in the world, and a skilled hacker too; and her dog wasn't a dog at all, but rather the previously mentioned most wanted man in the world. After  _him_ , Cole guessed, nothing could shake her anymore. Though, honestly, Trish had been pretty nervous when he took her back to the hospital, with Dana remaining behind and working with Zeke.

He shook himself with a grimace. He couldn't help it, because it made him incredibly aware of how screwed up the entire world was. But he had no chance to simply continue with his life like nothing was wrong. He was a human light socket now, and that meant there was no chance to live normally anymore. No. He had to stop Kessler, had to end the quarantine. Then he could at least  _pretend_ everything was okay.

The courier sighed in annoyance as he planted himself on a roof exit overlooking the hospital. He pulled out his bottle and took a long drag, feeling how the lukewarm water soothed his parched throat. His neck prickled, though he didn't bother looking back.

“Mercer”, he greeted when he heard the sound of heavy steps against the roof. Too heavy to be human.

There was a short falter in those steps before they picked up again. “Alex”, the other said.

“Huh?” He turned his head slightly to watch the other move to stand besides the roof exit, glancing up to him.

“Alex”, Mercer said again. “Mercer sounds too much like the original. I'm not him.”

“Just Alex, then?” Cole shrugged. “Sorry, but that's the name of the neighbor you talk to about the weather.”

The viral entity snorted. “Oh, I can talk about the weather. It mostly rains blood wherever I am, anyways.”

Cole shrugged. “Guess so.” Again, he couldn't believe how little he cared about something like that. He was currently talking to a genetically engineered  _thing_ that was made to kill humans, and  _he seriously did not give a shit_ .

“Your phone”, Mercer ground out in his typical 'Shut up and listen' voice.

Cole sighed, plucking it off. “What for?”

“Moya. I don't want her to listen in to anything we say. So if she has something to say, she has to call you like any other person.”

The courier wanted to know what exactly he meant to do, when he noticed how the other guy's chest literally fell apart into a black, formless mass. For a long uncomfortable moment he remembered the dog melting and turning into the terrorist. Just this time it was less a transformation and more of a squirming. Black tentacles lashed out, depositing electronic parts in Mercer's hand, while more tentacles were just in the process of prying Cole's phone apart.

“Whoa!” The courier snapped, “What the Hell, man?!”

“I need access to the internal side of your phone”, Mercer replied simply, dragging the batteries and small screws into his body like it was the most normal thing to do. He furrowed his brows, turning the butchered device over in his hand. “Moya can still listen as long the phone is on”, he told Cole. “To stop her from doing it, I'm installing a sort of interrupter. Something that prevents _anybody_ from listening in.”

Cole's eyebrows went up. “So Moya can't listen if I don't answer her calls?”

“She shouldn't be able to”, Mercer agreed.

“And you are certain this'll work?”

“Like I said before, communications are not my strongest side”, the terrorist replied. “But I know enough for this kind of stuff.” There was a series of clicking noises, though Cole couldn't see exactly what the other was doing- the tentacles were simply in the way. He let him do his thing however. Moya not being able to hear them would prove useful and was also a big middle finger pointed in her direction.

“Why are you helping me?”

“You are my cover”, Mercer replied. “Moya knows I'm here, and a whole lot of the people know I'm here- but those I don't fancy knowing don't know until now. I'd like to keep it that way.” He exhaled in annoyance. “The direction this is going, however, makes me think they'll be around in a very short time, though. We _need_ to end this better sooner rather than later.”

He paused, turning the phone around as he continued to put it back together. “Plus, I can appreciate humans who don't abuse whatever powers they have. I have seen it too often in your species, and I was starting to lose any sort of respect I have for  _life_ in general.” He handed him the phone back, and Cole turned it around to check it out. Nothing seemed out of place and it worked perfectly once he switched it on, too.

“Dana gave your number to the warden”, Mercer quietly added. “Harms. He said he knows you.”

Cole furrowed his brows. The cop from the day before mentioned that name too. Now Mercer said he knew him? Where from? “Harms...Harms...warden...” He snapped his fingers when his mind cleared. “Yeah. The head warden of the Eagle Point Penitentiary. I delivered a package once, was glad I was out of there that fast.” He paused. “Uh, thought the correction officers and cops got greased first when the Dustmen took over.”

“Some of them”, Mercer replied, “But a lot did actually survive. When they noticed you- and me, to a certain degree- take out the Reapers and Dustmen, they figured they could help too. Harms summoned them back and now they've seized control over the prison.” He shrugged. “They're also accepting volunteers.”

The courier frowned. “How do you know of this?”

Mercer's lips quirked up slightly. “I know a lot. You'd be surprised what people say when they're not aware you're in the same room as them.”

Right. He'd been a dog before. And most people don't bother with keeping their voice down when there's just a dog with them. “Plus”, Mercer added with a low tone, “I know what others knew. The Dustmen are aware of much that happens around the Warren.”

Cole's back instantly turned to ice, and his pulse jumped up. Right. Mercer had told him he could take a person's memories. When he... _eats_ them. He shuddered at the thought. What was it like? To see someone that  _looks_ human tear into another human, rip flesh from bones and devour everything?

Cole swallowed the bile in his throat, his stomach rolling at the thought. He had to distract himself, or else he'd throw up. “Do you have to do this?” He asked, feeling queasy. “Eat people, I mean?”

Mercer glanced at him. “Can you fight without draining electricity?” He suddenly asked, “Can you substitute the energy you gained with food and sleep?”

Cole blinked, not really understanding what it had to do with this. Still, he answered. “I can”, he mentioned, “Uh, not the big moves, but I always have this static electricity around myself that protects me, I guess. I'm also stronger than normal humans, meaning I can overpower pretty much everybody if I set my mind into it. But when I feel beat, nothing beats a good night's rest and breakfast.” His stomach rolled some more at the idea of bringing up food, especially when talking to a thing that  _ate people_ .

“I can't”, Mercer said. “I don't sleep. I don't eat food.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I already told you- food doesn't really work for me. I can drain the nutrients out, I can convert it to energy- but Blacklight wasn't made to work like that. Infected tissue is the only source of nutrition and energy I have, the only way I can heal. Everything I need I get from the Biomass I stored, the mass I gain through infecting live prey.”

“Live prey”, Cole echoed. “Do they have to be _alive_?”

“Not necessarily. I can work with freshly dead. Victims I killed previously, often through decaptitation or otherwise lethal force. Muscles work best for this, since they stop their function only about a day after death- but it is easier for me to consume them directly, without wasting time to kill them first.” He furrowed his brows. “Though I don't actually _kill_ them in the closer sense of the word. Since dead Biomass has no use to my body, whatever made them up remains _alive_ , though part of me.” He shrugged. “Their minds- as I take their memories and faces, I _become_ them. I am a near-perfect copy of them, complete with everything that made them unique. Telling me apart from them is near impossible on the first glance. I am not them, however, and as I take them over, I also eradicate the original. Guess that makes me actually worse than any other killer.”

There was a short pause, before Mercer continued. “I can go for a very long time without consuming, but a phase of activity burns through my reserves fast, and is often coupled with the constant loss of Biomass through injury. If I fight, I simply lose Biomass faster, but at the same time, my enemies supply me with enough additional mass, which in turn reduces the total amount of foes plus lowers the remaining guys' motivation.”

Cole felt the blood fade from his face. Just thinking about this...gross. But...

“Do you need to kill _humans_?” He asked, because that would probably solve a few problems and prevent some nightmares.

Mercer shook his head. “Technically, I am able to consume  _everything,_ though I was  _made_ to work on humans. Blacklight's adaptable, but even it has limits. The further away, the harder it is. Mammals work very well, best primates. Birds work too, mostly because they're warm-blooded, but they are harder to consume than mammals. Reptiles are better than amphibians or fish. Invertebrates are bad, and not very filling. Plants...because of their cell walls and lacking circulation system, plants are  _Hell_ .” He paused, frowning. “Don't bother with bacteria. I can do them too, but- they aren't worth the effort. The bigger, the better” He glanced at Cole. “Humans are the easiest choice- with seven  _billion_ , nobody's gonna miss the dozens I grab in a year.” He trailed off for a moment, expression going blank. “Though, there are a few things I would love to learn from animals”, Mercer admitted. “Things I can't learn on my own.”

“Huh?”

“Blacklight not only infects and consumes- it also makes _copies_. Of the genetic structure.” He lifted one arm, surface shivering and twisting before it turned into the razor-like wicked claws. “Those I didn't have in the beginning. I consumed a Hunter, then added the Hunter's claws to my abilities. Every other transformation I have, bar the shield and the armor, are adaptations to the claws I made. I want abilities, I find something that already displays them and consume them, then get my body to reproduce those abilities.”

Cole's eyes widened. Shit, that meant that Mercer could technically re-create anything that made other species unique. Poison, venom, toxin? Laughable. Enhanced senses, even in the ultra violet spectrum? Easy. Flight? Can be done. Conduit abilities-

He froze. “Conduit abilities”, he croaked out, startled by how hoarse his voice sounded, “You can take them too- Shit- you could hunt conduits down for their powers!”

“I could”, Mercer agreed, and the way he delivered his statement felt like a punch to the guts, making Cole's stomach coil together painfully. “I even tried to _do just that_ -”

Cole went rigid, eyes widening as several hundreds of ways he could try to fight back shot through his mind. None of the options left him with a very impressive chance of survival- he'd seen the guy fight, after all.

“I stopped pursuing it, however”, Mercer added, and Cole wasn't sure what to feel about this. He must have seen the expression on his face, because he continued to explain. “Your conduit gene- the thing that gives you your power- it doesn't work on me.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “The Reaper and Dustmen Conduits- I told you they can only be activated upon having contact with a prime conduit. And those lesser guys I have consumed _en masse_. Plus I did have copious amount of contact with you- nothing worked until now, and...” He pointed his claw at Cole. “Even _your_ DNA didn't help. To Blacklight, the conduit gene is simply junk, and it doesn't work with junk. Plus- your gene is _activated_. I'd need a conduit without powers to compare the two sets of DNA, figure out where the difference is. And I am certain I'd need to _activate_ it too, similar to how yours got activated.”

“Another Ray Sphere Blast”, Cole hissed sharply.

Mercer nodded. “I will not risk it, however. Who knows whether it'll work at all? And, despite me hunting and consuming humans- I would not want to murder so many for something that might not even work. I admit, these powers would be pretty handy- but I don't really need them.” He paused, then continued. “I don't  _want_ them if it meant killing thousands. I am strong enough even without them, wanting to have more abilities would be just  _greedy_ .” He shook his head. “No, Cole. I am not going to hunt you or any other down just to try and acquire their powers. You are more worth left alive. More useful to me and Dana.”

Cole relaxed slightly, now he knew he wasn't in any  _immediate_ danger from the other. Well, he  _always_ knew, mostly because if Mercer wanted to kill him, then he would have done so already.

But  _actually hearing_ that this thing with the ability to steal other's unique powers had no interest in taking  _his,_ and thought there was still some  _use_ to him, felt like a ton of problems slipping off his chest. It was good to have allies, allies who didn't try to backstab you. The reason for him to work with him was just as selfish as his own or Moya's, but at least he was being  _honest_ about this. Of course, Mercer was probably the  _least_ trustworthy guy, but right here, he was one of the few who actually told the truth. Hell, he trusted him with the very stuff that made him so dangerous, so Cole felt it was only right to show a little trust from his side, too.

If only to prevent the guy from  _eating_ him. Or infecting. Or whatever it was he did.

He shuddered at the thought, but at the same time, he couldn't help but see the endless possibilities. Mercer  _was_ able to take a person's  _shape and memories_ . He was able to infiltrate any and every position, could gain every last secret, and in return spill them to him so he could figure out what to do. Abilities like these were too good to be disregarded.

And all they needed was just to kill somebody else. Now, the act of  _killing_ somebody- or in this case  _feeding_ somebody to someone else- was unethical and not something Cole ever gave serious thought to, but ever since the Blast happened and everything went to shit, he had realized how  _easy_ it was. And it wasn't like he was happily murdering  _innocents_ . No, everybody he, or Mercer, went after  _had_ it coming.

Cole still made a mental note to talk to him about that once everything was over- right now these powers were too good to pass up, but once Kessler was gone...

He furrowed his brows. After Kessler, there was Moya. After Moya... God knows who else. He shook his head. No, if they went after everybody who had a hand in this entire mess, then they would never be finished. It was the best bet just to make sure Kessler was gone and Moya wouldn't go after them- after that, Cole had to split up from Mercer, to make sure nobody knew of their connection. Ally (friend?) or not- Mercer was still the most wanted man in the world.

Speaking of whom...Cole frowned at the focused glare the guy was sending into the Warren. Something had taken his attention.

“Mercer? Is anything alright?”

“No”, was the reply. “Sirens. And shooting.” He paused, brows drawn together. “Cops fighting Dustmen.”

“Shit” Cole swung himself on top of the concrete barrier at the edge of the roof. “C'mon. We have to help them.” He jumped off, arms spread to the side to create his thrusters and hover over to the next roof.

There was a hollow  _crack_ just as he landed in a roll the next building over, seconds before Mercer hit the roof with a heavy thud. The terrorist threw him a glance, then pushed himself off again and easily crossed a distance of maybe half a block before he leaned his body to the front, snapped his arms and legs back- and  _soared_ through the sky at an impressive speed. Cole just stared as the guy easily tilted to the side, vanishing behind another building.

Of course.  _Flying_ was part of the package, too. Well,  _why the Hell not_ ?!

He just stood there, staring, before his head rolled back and he groaned out. Damnit. Now he had to hurry even more to have some Dustmen left over.

* * *

 

Alex was unwilling to help the police officers, but he did crave to fight some more Dustmen. Plus, it would be a tactical advantage to have people around, who viewed him as an ally. Made it harder for Blackwatch to make a move on him.

He knew he had to hurry, to prevent too many of the cops to bite the bullet, so he easily left MacGrath behind. He was fast, sure, but the Runner was even faster. Using his gliding and air dash abilities, he could move fast enough to cross through all of Manhattan within minutes, so reaching the area he could  _hear_ the shots from was more than easy.

He jumped off a taller building, screwing his body high into the air, and glanced down, seeing a group of cops hidden behind hastily erected barricades, and a group of Dustmen approaching them. He could see two of those conduits amongst them, with these trash crabs rapidly closing in on the officers.

His attention snapped towards the large vehicle approaching their position. It seemed to have been a bus at some point, but the Dustmen had reinforced it with sheets of metal, and installed way too many automatic guns.

Self-made APCs. And highly efficient ones, too.

Alex twisted his body in mid-air, angling his body downwards while Biomass started to flow into his skull and torso to increase his density. He hung there for a moment, before he pushed against the air above him to shoot downwards.

The wind ripped harshly at his clothes and nearly tore his hood off, but the descent wasn't anywhere  _long_ enough for this to really happen. The effect, however, was  _instant_ .

The bus, the Dustmen, the  _road_ simply  _ceased to exist._ Alex rose from the crater he tore, regenerating his body and pulling back the Biomass that made up his leather jacket and hoodie as he straightened his back to glance around. The bus was little more than a twisted wreck, flattened into the ground. The Dustmen closest to him didn't even look like  _people_ anymore, were level with the hole he just tore, those a bit further away were still human-like, but sure as Hell didn't move anymore. Alex casually rolled his neck and cracked his joints, before turning to those few Dustmen that were lucky enough to be far away from the bus. One of the conduits survived, the other had fallen victim to the Runner.

Not that he was any threat, though. Alex lunged to the front, faster than the man could react, and slammed his fist deep into the his chest, killing him. As the body slid to the ground, whatever was left of the Dustmen fled in terror.

Alex toyed with the thought of running them down, but eventually decided against it when he picked up the familiar smell of ozone and sweat. He craned his head, glancing into the direction the courier came from. He could see the blue aura of his lightning in the upcoming darkness, moments before the man himself leapt off a building, using those electric thrusters to slow his descent and land on the street. He exchanged glances between Alex, the mess he just caused, and the police officers nearby, before he set his face into a deep scowl.

“What the heck, man?!” He barked, “I asked you to help the cops, not splatter the Dustmen!”

Alex could see the warden Harms amongst the officers, and he noticed him slowly lower his gun with a surprised expression.

The Runner cocked his head, pale blue eyes locking with the courier's angry ones. “I did”, he mentioned calmly. “The Dustmen are dead, and none of the officers are.”

The conduit deflated slightly, before he exhaled and turned away to address the cops. “It's okay”, he called out to them, lifting his hands, “This bastard's with me. He knows well, but is maybe a bit too fond of total dismemberment.”

“That's one way to describe that”, one of the cops mumbled. It was too silent for MacGrath to hear, but Alex easily picked it up. Harms approached them, gun now secure against his hip. “Appreciate the help, even if it's been a bit...uh...surprising and _lethal_. But I'm not gonna complain. You saved my boys here.”

Alex shrugged, Harms turned to the courier. “He got powers like you?”

“In some way”, MacGrath replied. He glanced at the destroyed APC. “What exactly is going on?”

The warden sighed. “Dustmen don't like us trying to take back the Warren, and fight us everywhere they can. All we can do is dig in and pray, though you two have been a great help until now.” He motioned vaguely to the remains of the armored bus. “But now the transients come at our positions with those armored buses and I lost contact to some of my guys. I'd like to look for them, but I can't leave here at the moment.”

MacGrath furrowed his brows. “I can look for your men”, he offered, “And... my friend here can take care of those buses.”

He noticed the falter in his voice. MacGrath wasn't too keen on revealing his name to the warden and the cops. Alex realized he was actually a bit grateful for this. Most people knew the name Alex Mercer, and the less of them knew he was actually here, the better for everybody involved. He was aware he had already blown a large part of his cover just  _being here_ and fighting the Dustmen and Reapers, but a part of him was still clinging to the foolish hope to be still able to do some damage control. Things like that weren't his strong side, but for Dana's sake, he had to try.

Harms glanced at the Runner with a frown. “Yeah. Guess that would be the best choice. Thanks, Cole.”

“No problem”, the courier claimed.

“Just make sure you hold whatever area you get back”, Alex added. “I don't fancy getting stabbed in the middle of the night.”

“You help us take it back, and we'll make damn sure to hold the defenses”, Harms replied. “I'm giving you the position of my men I lost contact with. Could you please hurry?”

“Will do” MacGrath took one glance at his multi-purpose phone, before he turned and jogged off. He stopped for a moment and glanced at Alex though. “Have fun with the buses, but please- do not do whatever you did before. The damn Warren shook, and it's going to take forever to clean that mess.” 

“Don't worry”, the Runner replied, idly picking his finger nails. “There are more ways to destroy an APC, and I haven't used any of those in a _very_ long time.” He ducked, before he released his muscles and rocketed several stories up, then easily expelled compressed air to change trajectory and leave the cops and the courier behind. He wasn't one for rescuing people. His job was to make sure things got dead and remained dead. And the Dustmen threatened Dana's safety. They were very high on his list of things that needed to die.

From afar he could already hear the low growl of the straining engines of the closest bus, the roar of automatic gun fire and the screams of the civilians.

He had to deal with this,  _fast_ . According to Cross, Moya wouldn't want to give up the hold she had over Empire, but if the upper echelons ever caught wind of what was actually going on, then they would replace her, send in others. Alex could not allow this, not only to take care nobody else would learn about him, but also to prevent Moya from ducking out of sight.

Alex's feet tore a trench into the roof of a derelict looking apartment building as he stopped to check the situation. Another do-it-yourself-APC was tearing through the street below, bullets flying everywhere. What he could see of the civilian population had ducked behind cars and the supports of the train tracks.

He didn't care for human life, not too much anyways. But there was something inside his chest that coiled and turned  _hot_ . Anger, his mind told him. Remains of his victims that all baulked against the view down there.

Alex stepped off the roof and dropped to the street, shattering the concrete beneath. He lunged to the front, rushing out to meet the armored vehicle. The driver must have noticed him, because he hit the brakes and turned the bus so Alex faced the broad side with the most guns.

Not even MacGrath would withstand this, but to him bullets were only an annoyance. Having a body that wasn't as suspectible to the kinetic energy from those projectiles was useful. Alex bared his teeth as he met the bus with full force, completely denting in a part of its front side and throwing the thing off course. The shooting stopped abruptly and he heard startled screams from inside. But this wasn't  _enough_ . He heard the tires screech, he could hear the metal creak. The Runner snarled, fingers digging into the steel sheets and tearing through them like paper.

He jerked back, ripping solid metal apart like wet tissue, before he pushed back to the front and slipped inside the bus, arms writhing and twisting into his lethal claws. He wasted no time to grab the driver, tear into him and consume him, before he pounced at the others to shred them.

The whole thing was over before it could get interesting, slaughtering humans in a closed space was like shooting fish in a barrel, after all. Alex pulled back, absorbing the gore sticking to him before he turned and headed back outside, dismissing his claws. Maiming these men here was a simple thing, and he didn't have the same ethics humans have. These fucks murdered at random, and thus, they didn't deserve to live. Easy.

The Runner paused at the sight of the ammo crates. He better should take the entire bus out of the equation, to prevent the Dustmen from reclaiming it.

Alex knelt down besides the crate and pulled the lid off.  _Grenades_ . Niiiice.

A dark smile tugged his lips slightly upwards as his tendrils slid from his skin and grabbed a few grenades at random and pulled the pins, before dropping them back into the crate.

The Runner turned and easily kicked the door from their hinges, casually strolling out of the bus.

The vehicle exploded in a brilliant ball of fire, superheated air roaring into every direction. Windows shattered, cars were flung away. Alex hummed for a moment, before he turned his attention towards the next bus that was somewhere in the Warren.

He started to jog down the road, then sped up and jumped against the nearest wall to head towards the roof, leapt off and shot skywards. By the time the civilians realized that the danger had passed, Alex was long gone.

* * *

 

The next bus had been patrolling the docks. Alex took the Blade to its roof, tore it open, and dropped a scavenged grenade inside before he jumped off. The smell of burnt Dustmen reminded him of the good time he had in Manhattan when he had commandeered the Thermobaric Tank.

The fourth bus was near the Valentine Park. Alex had chased it down, grabbed it and hauled it on top of a tall apartment building to throw it with all his might across the Warren. He watched in glee how the vehicle shattered against the street, everybody inside dead in an instant.

One was left...but where? Alex closed his eyes and listened, tried to pick up the sound of the gunfire.

He found it, and headed into its direction.

It was driving towards the hospital.

Alex snarled and dropped to the floor, speeding up to reach it before the Dustmen did. The street buckled beneath his feet as he pushed himself to near-impossible speeds, the world around him blurring out of focus.

He found the entrance to the emergency ward bustling with activity- the Dustmen's rampage caused a lot of casualties already. Alex could see Dailey amongst the crowd there and had to dig his feet into the asphalt, ripping deep tears into the material to slow to a stop. The doctors and nurses jumped in surprise, staring wide-eyed at him.

He frowned at them for a moment, then slowly turned his head over his shoulder to glare at the approaching APC. It was coming towards them too fast- the humans wouldn't have enough time to scuttle to safety.

Alex heaved a heavy sigh on the inside, on the outside, his eyes narrowed only. He didn't like  _more_ people knowing, but he was aware trying to take this bus on  _without_ his arsenal of weapons was going to be tricky, and it would result in time and civilian lives wasted. He couldn't risk accidentally harming Dailey- or any of the others. No, the woman had shown enough trust to  _not_ run outside screaming when he revealed himself. Alex felt this kind of trust did not deserve to be broken. He locked gazes with Dailey, inclining his head slightly. “Lie flat on the ground”, he told her and the others. “Put your hands over your head.”

He didn't wait to check whether they followed his orders as he swung around, shoulders and arms twisting and changing, clothes and skin shifting into tendrils, barbs and  _claws_ .

Alex heard the startled gasps behind his back, but paid it no further attention. The bus was his target, not the humans.

He walked for a few steps, unbothered by the bus speeding towards him, before he knelt down and violently jabbed one claw into the street. His Biomass surged through the ground, crawling just below the surface in rolling waves of black and red.

A grim smirk tugged his lips slightly away from his teeth, second before the floor shattered. Giant black spikes, each of them easily fifteen feet tall, erupted from the street. The hardened Biomass, made of a similar material as his claws, impaled the APC without any trouble, lifting it off the ground. The shooting had stopped in that moment. Alex tilted his head and willed a bit more Biomass into the ground to lift the vehicle a little higher, before pulling the spikes back into himself. The bus hit the street with a solid  _thud_ , every axle snapping under its own weight, broken metal twisting and cracking some more with a hollow shriek. Alex got up, claws hanging relaxed at his sides as he walked towards the vehicle. He ripped the door from its hinges and stepped inside to make sure he got every Dustman. The floor boards were completely torn open, and pretty much every single guy inside had been unlucky enough to get a spike up his ass, but a few had escaped the attack. Well, almost.

Alex smiled and moved towards them, tendrils unfurling from his back and shoulders. No use wasting fresh Biomass.

The Dustmen were in no condition to scream or run, and they had all sorts of useful information on them. Some of them looked interesting, so MacGrath was going to want to hear them probably too. The Runner paused, eyes narrowing on a strange, shard-like object sticking from one of the crates. It was roughly as long as his forearm, and gave of a strange purple glow. He glanced at it in surprise, trying to figure out what it was, until he touched it. He pulled his hand back at the feeling of static.

Huh. Electric static. MacGrath would maybe know what to do with it.

Alex pulled his phone from his Biomass as his tendrils dragged the shard inside at the same time, then stepped back outside, not surprised in the least to see Dailey stand in front of him.

“Are...are they dead?”

“They are”, the Runner replied, dismissing his claws so the phone sat on his human hands and could actually be used. The nurse watched the change in morbid fascination, before she turned her attention to him again. “Was this the last one?”

“It was”, Alex confirmed. “They only had five buses, and this here was the fifth I destroyed tonight.” He lifted the phone. “MacGrath would want to hear about this.”

“Where is he?”

“The warden send him to check up on some of his guys.”

Dailey's eyes widened. “Alone? But the Warren is dangerous!”

Despite himself, Alex chuckled lightly. “He is tough. Way tougher than these guys. Don't worry.” She didn't seem to be convinced, so Alex relented. “I was going to call him anyways. Anything you wish to ask?”

The woman shook her head, allowing the Runner to pick the courier's number. “MacGrath.”

“ _Mercer? How the Hell-oh. You've seen my number.”_

“I'm finished on my side here. What about you?”

“ _Oh, not much. I only tracked Alden to his hideout. Place looks like a tent city.”_

Alex's eyes narrowed. He knew of the place the Dustmen's leader had picked for himself, knew how many opponents were in a place like that. Alden's 'Tent City' was heavily armed and defended.

“MacGrath”, he warned him, “Don't go inside. I'm going to go with you on that one.”

The courier was silent for a moment, and the tone of his voice changed.  _“Enemies?”_

“Too many to count. Any normal person going inside would die, and even to you it would be more of a suicide attempt.”

“ _Guess you're the expert in stuff like that. Okay. I'll wait.”_

Alex cut the connection and turned to Dailey, who had followed the conversation with a frown. “I'll make sure he comes back in one piece.”

“Thanks.”

Alex nodded and headed towards a nearby building, placing one foot against the wall to glance back at the nurse, before he pushed off the floor and easily rushed up the building's side, vanishing from her sight when he flipped over the roof edge.

* * *

 

Cole had left the warden and the police officers not much later than Mercer had. Though, judging by the sheer speed the guy could put up plus the ability to screw over physics as much as he wanted, he was probably already at the other end of the Warren.

Cole couldn't compete with that, so he headed at a much slower pace to where Harms' men were. He could still fry a bunch of dudes in the most impressive way, and with a lot less bloodshed than Mercer. But this wasn't a competition. The terrorist did what came naturally to him, Cole did what was his. Together they would be able to save Empire. Save the city from the Reapers, the Dustmen, The First Sons, from Moya, from Kessler and everybody else. Save  _Trish_ .

The courier paused atop a small apartment building, brows drawn together. It was silent.  _Too_ silent. It was as if nobody was around, yet...

He focused, concentrated on the electrical signals all around him.  The people were there, but they were silent. They were  _afraid_ . 

So something had happened. Dustmen, probably.

Cole noticed what looked like a barricade made of sand bags. Most likely where the cops where. But he couldn't sense anyone alive down there.

Only bodies. Lots of bodies.

Cole swore and jumped down, hitting the street five stories below in a roll to use the momentum of his movement and catapult himself forwards. He was in a flat-out sprint the next moment, rushing over to the fenced-off area.

He was too late. He swore some more when he realized the extent of the massacre. Eight police officers, and all dead.

Cole swallowed the bile that threatened to crawl into his throat when he realized that these guys weren't just  _killed_ . No, they have been  _crushed flat_ . How was easy to figure out- there was a completely demolished car stained with blood, bone splinters and bits of organs and brain stuck to it nearby. It was as if somebody had taken the vehicle and just smashed it repeatedly into the guys to kill them. Looked like Mercer's work, but Cole knew for fact that the guy's been around him the entire time.

He growled and looked around, finding one cop that wasn't as flat as the others. Brain was still in one piece, too. Cole latched onto the guy and send in a jolt of electricity to figure out the last moments of the guy.

“ _Alden, don't move!”_ , the cop shouted at the sight of the grizzly old man. _“You're under arrest!”_ Alden only scowled at them, before lifting the car and smashing it into the man, killing him and his partners.

Cole's eyes narrowed as he slowly got to his feet and glare at the spot the attacker came from.  _Alden Tate_ .

He was the one who killed the cops. And he had done so  _gleefully_ .

That guy was  _going down_ .

Question was: How? Cole was damn sure the cops would  _love_ getting their hands on the Dustmen's leader, after all, he was the one to cause most problems to them. He paused, eyes widening. There was a possibility he didn't take in account.

_Moya._

She was possibly tearing her hair out at the root at the moment, since the Mercer siblings had so  _rudely_ cut her off from their conversations. But leaving Alden here in the Warren would not do- he would be still  _too close_ to his Dustmen. Moya was the only choice.

He picked her number and let it ring.

“ _Cole?”_ Moya sounded icy. _“What do you want?”_

“Alden Tate”, the courier snarled. “I have Alden Tate for you.”

“ _Really?”_ Well, _that_ got her attention. _“I'm listening.”_

“He murdered several good men here _and_ nearly killed Trish”, Cole continued with a low growl, focusing on the remnants of Alden's energy signature. “You can have that bastard.”

“ _Really?”_

“Yes. You just have to make sure you take him out of Empire. Him being too close to his Dustmen won't do.”

“ _I'm glad you decided to work with me again”_ , the woman replied with a venomous tone. _“But we'll need to have a little talk about who's in charge here.”_

“I don't care”, Cole snapped, “But I'm calling _you_ because _you_ are the one to make sure Alden gets what he deserves. As much as I'd love the cops here to deal with him, he can't stay in the Warren.”

“ _Fine”_ , Moya answered. _“Be that way then. You'll make sure you get him into custody, and I'll send in an extraction team to pick him up.”_ The courier snorted and was about to cut the connection, when she spoke up again. _“And Cole? Make sure your friend Mercer doesn't get too close to Alden.”_

“I'll try.”

He cut the connection, then started following Alden's 'Echo'. He couldn't let him escape. He  _wouldn't_ let him escape. Nobody was on the streets, allowing him to 'see' the trail clearly. Cole lunged across a nearby parking lot and dashed across a street, heading to where he knew a park was.

Or used to be.

He slowed down, brows furrowed at the sight of steel plates and barbed wire cutting him off from countless shipping containers, tents and watchtowers.

This looked like...a  _tent city_ . Huh.

Cole was aware it would probably be suicide to try getting into there, but they did need Alden. Huh, maybe he should try looking for his violent ally? But then maybe Alden's trail would have gone cold.

His phone rang. “ _MacGrath”_

Cole's neck crawled at the sound of the low gravely voice. Speak of the Devil... “Mercer? How the Hell-”  _did you get this number_ , he wanted to ask, but realization set in faster. “Oh. You've seen my number.” Of course. He had even pried apart his phone. It wasn't too far off to think he either figured his number out on his own, or Dana told him, or maybe he got it from Trish.

“ _I'm finished on my side here”_ , the terrorist told him. _“What about you?”_

“Oh, not much. I only tracked Alden to his hideout. Place looks like a tent city”, Cole told him. He _really_ wanted to ask him whether he'd be up to murder some more trash-baggers, but he didn't want to sound so desperate.

“ _MacGrath”_ , Mercer's tone did sound worried, actually. _“Don't go inside. I'm going to go with you on that one.”_

He'd been inside once already, Cole realized. Or better, he had the  _memories_ of having been inside. He  _knew_ how it looked in this Tent City. “Enemies”, he muttered. Lots and lots of them.

“ _Too many to count.”_ Mercer confirmed. _“Any normal person going inside would die, and even to you it would be more of a suicide attempt.”_ Yeah. He had already figured that out. Steel Harbor hadn't been easy, and this was Alden's Head Quarter. Plus, Mercer was the guy able to take _memories_ , as creepy as that sounded.

Cole shrugged. “Guess you're the expert in stuff like that. Okay. I'll wait.” Mercer cut the connection and Cole huffed out in relief. Good thing the guy called, preventing him from having to call on his own. He knew he was stubborn like a mule, and  _asking_ for help had never been his strong side. Cole was so used to deal with problems on his own, he found talking to others for a bit of support to be a massive kick into his dignity.

So he did his best to look like somebody who was forced to share his favorite pastime with somebody else (which was kind of true here, but Cole wasn't suicidal), and waited until he heard the tell-tale  _crack_ of the mutated Super virus hit the roof atop him. He saw the shadow of the man, seconds before he vaulted over and dug his fingers right into the brick wall to slide down the side and land more softly on the floor.

“Anything?” He asked curiously.

“Alden's in there”, Cole replied. “I followed his trail after finding a few dead cops, and I'm sure he's still inside Tent City.”

Mercer smiled, and it was all teeth and creepy as Hell. “Then we should go in and introduce ourselves.”

“Yeah”, Cole rolled his shoulders. “However”, he pointed out and Mercer stopped, eyes narrow. “Do not kill Alden”

“Why?”

The courier exhaled, and steeled his will. “I called Moya”, he told him, “Said she can have Alden.”

“WHAT?!” Cole flinched back at the angry shout, but he had to keep his ground to show he wasn't to be intimidated.

“You heard me”, he explained, hoping to God his voice wouldn't crack. Mercer _was_ scary. “I told her she can have him. Throw her a bone and she'll be busy with Alden and not us.” Mercer's frown deepened even more (if that was even possible), so Cole hurried with adding another point. “Plus”, he grinned, though he was aware it was somewhat forced, “If Moya can't handle Alden, he's going to be _her_ problem. Not ours.”

Those cold blue eyes narrowed on him, before the terrorist turned away and threw his arms up. “Fine. You're going to regret this later, but I'm going to play along for now.” He glared at Cole over his shoulder. “Any plan?”

“Not really”, the courier admitted. “Only this: Go in and beat up enough Dustmen until we get to Alden, then knock him out and hand him over to the cops.”

Mercer frowned at him for a moment longer, then turned around and cracked his knuckles. “Huh. Guess I can agree to this plan. Just this once.”

 


	19. The Arrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pretty short chapter, mainly because it and the following one, 'Alden in Chains' was originally one and the same. But it had grown too large, so I made two chapters from it.

** The Arrest **

 

_Moya!_

Alex scowled deeply. MacGrath had called for her assistance- he could understand it,  _really_ \- leaving Alden in the Warren was going to cause more trouble in the future, but seriously? Moya was one of the sources of the problems they had. Giving her what she wanted, namely a  _prime conduit_ to experiment on, was just inviting all kinds of disaster.

However...Alex paused, eyes narrowing.

This might  _just_ be the solution. Moya wants Alden. MacGrath and him could get to Alden. What would it take him to consume Alden, take his place, and get to Moya that way?

It would be two birds with one stone. It was ideal.

Without further delay, he had agreed to the courier's plan, and both of them set out towards the fenced-off area of the 'Tent City'. Alex knew the layout very well, from his Dustmen victims, and his previous assault on the prison area he took all captured engineers from. Even though this had been only a few days ago, the Dustmen had kept busy and had repaired all damage he had caused back then.

Alex glanced at his companion. MacGrath was quite literally ready to tear the ever-loving fuck out of the Dustmen. For some reason Alex couldn't discern, he was quite pissed at them. So he decided to let him have his fun with these bastards. And anyways, if they went slower than his usual 'meat grinder' speed, as Dana called it, then he would be able to actually  _enjoy_ being here. He didn't have had a chance to really stretch his claws in the recent time, not in the open like this. Until now, he'd been hiding, but in the Tent City, all who could witness the might of ZEUS were those he wanted  _dead_ anyways. And the courier, of course, who was aware of his lethal tendencies.

A iron gate made of rebar beams was in their way. MacGrath glanced at him and nodded slowly, so Alex stepped to the front and leaned backwards, lifting his leg. He kicked the gate with enough force to rip it (and parts of the fence on either side) right out and send it flying across the 'courtyard'. Yawning emptiness greeted both men. The courier paused, frowning, before he glanced at Alex. Alex himself was just as confused. Nobody seemed to be around, all they could see was a generous amount of trash.

Eventually, the courier cleared his throat. “Shouldn't there be, I dunno, more people?” He paused as he focused on  _something_ , electricity arching around him. “Didn't you have some sort of Thermal Vision?”

“Nothing to see”, Alex replied, “However, I can not look through walls from a distance.” He stopped, eyes narrowing on the shipping containers and makeshift housing all around them. Metal of all kind also screwed up with his thermic vision. Swallowing heat much better than most other things, and easily hiding humans behind them. MacGrath noticed his stare, before his body lowered in a defensive position.

“Me neither”, he growled lowly, “And I definitely can _not_ look through metal. Like those shipping containers.”

Their eyes met. Alex's brows furrowed. “Down.”

Both men instantly dove to the side and behind a small pile of metal trash, avoiding a barrage of grenades just barely. The containers and houses on either side of them popped open, spilling several dozens of Dustmen out.

Oil on the ground was set ablaze, cutting off their way deeper into the complex and also their way out. Trapping them.

“Shit”, MacGrath swore. Alex carefully peeked over their pathetic cover, catching a few high-speed bullets for it before he ducked back. “RPGs”, he growled. “I _hate_ RPGs.”

“Really?” MacGrath drawled out, “Because you did look like a kid in a candy store the last time you got one of these things.”

“Shooting them myself is one thing. Getting shot at, however...Costs too much Biomass”, Alex cut himself off with a snarl. “Move!”

They scrambled to the side, just in time to avoid the blast that took their hideout.

“Screw this!” MacGrath shouted, unleashing bolts of electricity into the direction the missiles came from. Alex heard the startled yells of the Dustmen, so he could easily pin their position. His body writhed and instantly covered itself in his tough armor, before he pounced at the guys, freshly-formed claws blazing. The power of his impact squashed one of the Dustmen into a bloody stain, and his talons easily disemboweled the others. He heard lightning discharge and pained screams, and he heard explosives go off. So the courier did his job too. Alex didn't bother to look though and whirled around, checking the area with his thermal scan again. No enemies in this area, but a lot more still waiting nearby. He noticed another missile coming at him, though this time he jumped up and took the thing head-on, letting his shell take most of the damage as he ripped one of the containers off the ground and threw it at where the missile had come from.

He killed about five Dustmen with his projectile before he came back down, landing on the trash-riddled floor with a heavy thud. MacGrath approached him, eyebrow raised and lightning arching around his arms. He didn't say anything, but rather focused again. “Alden went this way”, he grumbled.

“He did?” Alex inclined his head. “How do you know?”

The courier shrugged. “Hell if I know. But I can, somehow, track somebody across the city. Or better, the 'echo' left behind by the ionic charges of his body.” He paused, head tilting to the side. “What's the story with the armor?”

“It's an armor”, Alex replied, tapping his chest plates, “Simple as that. It protects me, but takes away most of my agility.” He nodded towards the center of the Tent City. “I _know_ we are going to get shot at with guns big enough to hurt even me, and I really don't fancy having to refill my Biomass reserves too often. Consuming leaves me... _vulnerable_ for a short period of time.”

MacGrath grimaced. “Good to know”, he bit out. He cut himself off, then lifted his hand and shot a thin and highly concentrated bolt of electricity at a well-hidden turret. The machine gun went up in flames. The courier turned his attention back to the Runner. “Gross”, he added to his previous statement. “But good to know.”

There was a short pause again, when he eventually looked around. “This used to be a park”, he lamented. “Not really pretty, but at least  _something_ . But now? Now it's a shanty town made of junk.”

“Alden started collecting scrap metal after the Blast”, Alex told him as they quickly made their way through the maze-like structure of the Tent City. It wasn't a problem to him, though. He knew the way. “Used it mainly for that tower of his. I'm certain he's going to be there.”

MacGrath craned his neck, staring at the edifice of scrap rising high over them. “Why the Hell is he building this thing?”

The Blacklight Runner paused, featureless face plate slowly swaying to the side. “No idea”, he admitted. “As far I can tell, there aren't explosives inside. Though I did hear rumors about it being a sort of body for the old coot.”

“Ah shit”, MacGrath grumbled. They rounded another corner, and he bounced back almost immediately. “Guys”, he grumbled, fashioning one of those lightning grenades. “I blind them, you maim them, deal?”

“Deal”

He lugged the grenade, waited for it to go off with the pained shouts of the Dustmen, before Alex rushed around the corner. His armor did slow him down considerably, but he was still fast enough to take these fucks by surprise.

More of them rushed towards them before even the last guy hit the ground, and Alex switched to the Blade, then rushed at them with wild swings.

MacGrath was directly behind him, taking precise shots at the Dustmen that tried to ambush Alex. The Runner acknowledged these shots with a little nod of his head. It wasn't that he needed the protection, but the sentiment was there. The two of them had each other's backs.

Alex repaid the favor by slicing his Whipfist past MacGrath and loped a Dustman conduit's head clean off his shoulders. He paused when the tip of his claws hit something with a distinct  _clink_ . He instantly recognized the sound and wrapped his tendrils around whatever he hit. It was about as long as his forearm, with a nearly wedge-like shape.

Alex pulled it back, revealing another of those strange, purple-glowing shards like he found on the bus. He frowned at the thing, though it didn't show on his facial plate. He could remember he'd seen similar shards all over the city, but never had any desire to go around picking them up. However, now he found a second one in Dustmen's hands within a very short period of time. Something was special about them...but what?

“What do you have there?” MacGrath asked, curiously glancing over his shoulder. Alex snorted and turned around, armor sinking back into his shape. He could still smell some of the Dustmen, but they were at a comfortable distance, so he didn't need his defense at the moment. He turned the shard over in his hand. “I am not sure”, he admitted. “I think I've seen a few of these things around the city, but never bothered getting closer.” Alex paused and furrowed his brows. “I did find a similar one a little while ago”, he mentioned, insides squirming to pull out the shard he found on the Dustmen's APC before. He paused, eyes widening when he noticed the blackened and _dead_ tissues covering the shard.

“Oh”, MacGrath grimaced at the same moment. “Yuck.”

“Necrosis?” Alex wondered. He turned the shard, watching the black, tar-like substance slough off and drop to the ground with a wet slap. “Why necro-” He cut himself off, eyes widening some more, hands starting to tremble. _This_ was why the shards _glowed_! He jerked back, as if burnt and dropped the shards. “Radiation!”

“Like, nuclear?!” MacGrath mimicked his motion, jumping away from the softly glowing shards.

“I believe so”, Alex growled, glaring at the shard as if it had offended him. “But...” He furrowed his brows, “They haven't been around _before_ the Blast.”

“No?” MacGrath inclined his head. “They haven't?”

“It is possible these things are parts of irradiated soil from _Ground Zero_. Guess the explosion scattered them all over the place”, Alex assumed. He noticed the expression on the courier's face. “What?”

“Huh. Radiation _is_ , per definition, a sort of electromagnetic wave, isn't it?” MacGrath spread his arms slightly to the side. “And I _absorb_ electricity. Plus”, he lifted his hand, “I kind of _got_ my powers from the Blast that made these things. So...” He knelt down, grabbing the two shards.

Alex flinched back slightly when he saw the purple glow vanish from the shards, while the courier himself was illuminated for a moment before settling down. The younger man blinked, and curled his fingers. Lightning arched around his arms, before it settled in blade-like sheets of electricity around his wrists. “Holy shit”, the courier gasped. He turned and struck a wall at an angle, the electric blades cutting through brick and metal almost like Alex's own claws. The blades fizzled off quickly, though, but it did leave the courier in a better mood than before. “He-llooo close up and personal”, he grinned.

Alex didn't pay him much attention. Instead, he slowly went over and picked the shard up again. This time, there wasn't any reaction with his Biomass. The radiation was gone. If he could drain it of the radiation so easily...

“MacGrath?”

The courier glanced at him with a frown. “Yeah?”

“How are you feeling?”

The courier blinked, then looked around. There were still too many Dustmen around, but they held back for the moment. “Pretty good, why?”

“The shard”, Alex pointed out. “I had it inside my Biomass for not even half an hour, and it _killed_ parts of me. You just drained two.”

“Oh” There was a fast change of emotions ghosting over the other's face, though he quickly settled for neutral. “I'm doing fine. Better than fine, actually. Feeling stronger after these two.”

Alex paused, frowning. So...these  _Blast Shards_ were to MacGrath what the infection was to him? They made him stronger...and killed everyone else? Hell, if it killed his Biomass so quickly, a substance that completely regenerated after being caught in a  _nuclear_ explosion, then what chance would normal humans have? It would fit- a lot of people died after the Blast for reasons unknown. What if there isn't one 'plague' ravaging the city, but  _two_ ?

It would fit- Sasha didn't want to _kill_ the humans she turned into Reapers, after all. But the shards made no difference in who they murdered with their deadly radiation. _What if this stuff got into the hospital?_ _What if Dana got her fingers on one of these things?_

He snorted and turned his attention to the courier. “What do you think would happen if you got more of these shards?”

The conduit blinked, then slowly inclined his head as he glanced at his hands. “I don't know”, he admitted, “But...I did become stronger after these two. So the possibility is that they increase my powers.” It would made sense, too. If those shards contained the same type of energy that gave him his powers in the first place, then absorbing the residues from them would increase his abilities tremendously.

Alex nodded slowly, hearing the Dustmen approach their position. “Good”, he muttered. “Time's short at the moment. These bastards are going to be all over us pretty soon, so I'll make it quick. After Moya has Alden, I will go and check the city for these Blast Shards and get them to you.”  _Or, to be more precise, after I took down Moya and made sure DARPA was down._

The courier's eyebrows rose. “I am supposed to absorb them, right?” He asked. “To become more powerful?”

“This is a side effect. But your job is to make these things harmless.” A container besides them exploded in a giant ball of fire. The Dustmen had found them and were trying to take them down. Both men ducked behind cover. “Normal humans will probably die if exposed for too long!” Alex barked.

“Shit!”, MacGrath threw a lightning grenade over their cover, taking out a few of the Dustmen. Did he just imagine this or was that attack just a bit stronger than it was before? “So I'm the guy who saves the bastards that tried to lynch me a week ago?”

“No!” Alex snapped, releasing his Whipfist to slash through a few Dustmen, “You are the guy that stops my source of food from being irradiated!”

He noticed the man turn pale for a second, before he pulled his face into a frown. “Only the bad guys, okay?!”

“Don't worry”, Alex replied, armor rising from his body and covering him. “I'll stay true to my word.” He vaulted over the barricade and slammed into the Dustmen across from them to take them out. He knew MacGrath was going to come around, eventually. Alex did promise him a way to gain more power. And he was going to take it, no matter his own motives in the matter.

Alex noticed the tanks of gas too late, and a stray missile blew it sky-high, catapulting the Runner upwards. He snarled and recovered in a heartbeat, swinging his fists downwards and shifting them to the Hammerfists. He came down, shattering the ground around him and turning the Dustmen into a bloody mess.

MacGrath was at the other side, zapping the remaining foes. But Alex could still sense even more approaching. “This is getting ridiculous”, he growled, then picked up his voice. “MacGrath! Where's Alden?!”

“Nearby!” He froze. “Shit”, he added breathlessly, “ _That_ is a whole lot of guys coming here.”

“Indeed”, Alex landed besides the courier and pointed at a tall structure made of shipping containers and lots of mesh. “I think he's had the base of his tower. Come, this is the shortest way.”

They rushed over, easily mounting the obstacle. “I thought you'd be more than happy to slaughter these guys down there?” MacGrath questioned.

“Under normal circumstances yes, but I also don't want to lose the chance getting to Alden.”

The two of them had reached the top of the containers. Alex glanced down, checking the area down there with his thermic vision. He only noticed two heat signatures. MacGrath made a noise in the back of his throat. “He's nearby”, he mentioned.

“Good. Then let's end this”, The Runner growled, voice echoing in his hard shell. 

They both dropped to the ground, Alex cratering first in a massive cloud of dust and rubble, while the courier set down much more gently. They had passed the massive maze-like area of the Tent City and had gotten into the empty center of the place, closed off by tall walls of shipping containers.

“ _Don't let them escape!”_ They heard Alden's voice shriek over the intercom.

“He's panicking”, MacGrath noticed.

“He is”, Alex supplied. “From here, it'll take his Dustmen much longer to reach him now. Let's hurry.”

They rushed to the central area, just at the foot of the massive tower. Alex's head snapped up when he noticed Alden already several stories off the ground.

“MacGrath!” He barked. 

“Seen him!” Was the answer. The courier lifted his hand and focused on the old man hovering on a piece of trash upwards. He sent out a powerful lightning bolt with the intention of knocking him down, when his attack was intercepted by a giant arm made of trash metal.

A second arm slammed into the ground where the two had been, only their quick reflexes saving them.

A massive Golem made of trash rose to its full height, cutting them off. It was maybe as large as a Leader Hunter, but stood upright. A glowing yellow aura surrounded the conduit in the middle, and metal sheets made up most of the thing's body.

“Holy crap”, MacGrath huffed out. “Uh...” They dodged another blow from the thing, while Alden kept moving further up.

“Mercer”, the courier began, “You go up and get the old fart down, I'm going to take care of this guy here.”

“Are you sure?” Alex questioned, “Because this thing's pretty large.”

“I am sure. Besides, I _can't_ go up a wall at a hundred miles per hour.”

The Runner was still frowning, but he still nodded. “Take care.” He kicked off the ground and jumped over the Golem almost pitifully low, but he still managed to hit the tower and screw his body upwards while avoiding the trash construct. His armor hampered his movement, though not enough to prevent him from going after Alden. The old man had noticed him and had whipped around, expression hateful.

“You will not stop me!” He screeched, metal shuddering around him. Alex felt the material buckle beneath his feet as Alden started tearing at it with only the force of his will.

He ground his teeth together and pulled his armor back, increasing his speed and agility. He leapt off the wall and shot skywards, just in time to avoid the wall burst beneath him. Alden screeched something unimportant, and Alex felt sharp metal whistle past and  _through_ him. It didn't hurt like it should hurt humans, he knew, and cuts were easy to fix. He barely lost Biomass through them, and seeing him shrug off usually lethal damage gave Alden pause.

Just what Alex needed. He changed his trajectory mid-air with an Air Dash, and lunged at the old man.

Alden swore and yanked the metal construct he stood on away, letting Alex pass him unharmed. The Blacklight Prototype slammed hard into the tower, arms writhing and turning into his claws again. He might need a little bit more reach to get that bastard easier.

Alden sneered at him and started tearing at the metal again. Alex cocked his head, then grinned. He was a powerful conduit, able to throw tons of metal around without much problem- but he couldn't move  _organic_ substances.

Good, he couldn't prevent him from moving freely then.

Plus- the old man was half blind. A disadvantage if faced with someone who could easily outspeed him. Alex threw his body to the side, kicking off from the tower to reach some height, before he airdashed again and circled the conduit. He heard Alden screech enraged as he attempted to turn his platform and keep him in his line of vision.

But Alex had managed to avoid target-seeking Hellfire missiles.

An old man wasn't so hard.

Like MacGrath, Alden was only  _human_ . He had impressive powers, yes, but whatever applied to normal humans also applied to him: He needed to breathe, he needed to eat and he required a transport of fluids throughout the whole body. Interrupt one, and the system will shut down.

Alex easily threw himself to the side to dive into Alden's literal blind spot, then allowed gravity to pull him down and out of the old man's sight. A tiny ledge at the side of Alden's tower was enough for his feet to find support. He sprang back upwards, angling himself to shoot skywards just behind the old man.

He kicked off from the air and smashed into Alden's back, tackling him off his platform.

The old man screeched on the way down, Alex grinned. His hold on him shifted, before he pushed off him with incredible force, letting him smack into the ground while he bounced back upwards. He landed on the floor further away, whirling to face Alden.

The fall knocked the old coot out. Alex smiled as he approached him.

Now to the fun part...

Tendrils started to uncurl from his shoulders and lower back, those closest to Alden wrapped around his leg and started dragging his body towards Alex. The virus churned beneath his surface, creating more of itself to infect. To consume.

“Mercer!!” Alex stopped for a split second, turning suspiciously. No, MacGrath couldn't see him from his position. So he couldn't stop him from consuming his prey. He turned back, intending to continue where he left off.

“SHIT! ALEX!! A LITTLE HELP HERE!!” Alex froze and whirled around just in time to witness MacGrath hit the floor with a heavy thud. He rolled out of the way and jumped back to his feet, shooting lightning at the trash golem- but the electricity dissipated harmlessly. Like a Faraday cage, leaving the conduit inside the golem unharmed.

The Runner glanced back at Alden's still form, before turning his attention back to MacGrath. He was losing.

_Fuck_

Alex lunged at the golem.

* * *

 

Cole came to the realization that, perhaps, it had been a bad idea to sent the virtually indestructible super virus away. But he was really the only one able to scale a wall like it was a flat street, and they really needed to get Alden's ass. So he sent him off, with Moya's voice echoing in his head.  _Make sure your friend Mercer doesn't get too close to Alden._

Yeah, joke's on you, bitch. Mercer's really the only one who can do this.

Sadly, it left  _him_ with the giant golem made from trash metal. Initially, Cole believed he could do this, since the trash crabs that were made in a similar way broke apart easily. It should be a simple matter, right? Just zap the thing until it breaks apart and leaves the conduit inside free for taking.

Right?

Wrong. Because of the metal making up the golem, the Dustman was essentially inside a Faraday cage. Which kinda sucked because electricity wouldn't get through to the bastard.

“Mercer!” He shouted, hoping to grab the guy's attention. The golem swung its arm at him, forcing him to jump aside. He aimed several lightning bolts at the construct, and all of them glanced off with no effect at all. The golem lifted its other arm and fired white-hot glowing metal shrapnel at him, forcing him to dive to the side.

Cole's voice rose. “SHIT! ALEX!! A LITTLE HELP HERE!!” The golem hit him with its massive fist, sending him flying. Cole grunted and just barely managed to roll out of the way when the golem tried to follow up with another swipe. The courier shot at it again, and again his lightning had no effect at all.

He was losing here!

There was the tell-tale crack of concrete shattering when Mercer lunged at the golem. Seconds later he collided with the thing, claws tearing groves into the metal plates that made up the golem's torso. The thing swayed to the side, and Mercer easily jumped off to land on the floor.

His eyes were narrowed. “MacGrath”, he snarled, “Get to Alden. Make sure he doesn't get up.”

“On it”, Cole rushed away from the golem, to where Alden was. The old coot was out cold on the floor. Never hurt to be thorough, though. The courier made a claw-like motion with his hand, creating his lightning manacles to literally hog-tie the old man, before he turned his attention back to Mercer.

Mercer was openly growling at the golem, his claws and spines melted away and turned into those massively muscular arms again.

Then he leapt at the golem far too fast for the conduit to react, his stubby fingers digging into the metal sheets. The construct jerked back, flailing its arms. Mercer only held to it tighter, tentacles rising from his body as they latched onto the metal and squirmed their way inside to anchor the terrorist there. There was an enraged growl when the genetically engineered weapon  _yanked_ out the massive metal sheets covering the conduit inside.

He could hear him snarl as he reached inside and simply grabbed the Dustman with his paws. Mercer pushed off the golem, ripping the conduit inside out of it with a brutal motion. The man yelled in shock, before they both slammed into the ground, with Mercer on top of him. He snarled once- and black tentacled rose from his sides and chest.

Cole inhaled sharply when they stabbed down into the Dustman.

And then, the enemy conduit  _screamed_ . He began thrashing, kicking his legs and flailing his arms as black tentacles rose from the impact points at a startling speed, grasping every bit of flesh they could get. The man howled out in pain and panic when his body literally  _melted_ , twisted into something made of even more tentacles and black flesh, dripping red like wax. The body quickly wasn't  _human_ anymore, but rather something winding, something that looked like a half-melted candle, if anything. There was a hollow  _crack_ as the man's body was snapped at an angle no human body should ever be bent, more tentacles wrapping around his flailing limps and dragging them inside with sickening slurps.

Half of Mercer's body looked similar, twisting and grating, losing cohesion to grab the Dustman and pull him into his own flesh.

The whole thing didn't take longer than three seconds, maybe, but it seemed to drag on  _forever_ . And the Dustman was  _screaming_ the whole time, until it was cut off with a last loud snapping of something  _vital_ . 

Mercer slowly turned around, pale blue eyes focusing on the courier. Cole stepped back in panic.

_Make sure your friend Mercer doesn't get too close to Alden.  
_ _What I usually do when I infect others- I turn them into what I am made of- I turn them into Blacklight Biomass. But I don't allow them to leave my vicinity. Instead, I drag them in...add their mass to myself._

Holy shit. He just  _ate_ that guy. Cole had just witnessed his ally  _eat_ somebody. He felt sick, his stomach was rolling unpleasantly and his knees weren't as solid as they should be.

_This_ was why Moya didn't want him anywhere near Alden. Mercer would have  _eaten_ Alden as well. But they needed him in one piece. And worse even- Cole  _knew_ that the guy ate people, he told him, after all. And he had replied that as long he kept it to those deserving it, he was okay with it.

After seeing  _this_ , however, he came to the realization that he was  _not_ okay with it. Holy shit, was this how it always went? A person, pinned down and screaming as their body was warped and corrupted, turned into highly infectious viral matter? This was a fate he wouldn't wish on his worst enemies. Yet it was something the other guy did on a  _regular_ basis. Something he had done for  _years_ .  _How many had he devoured this way? How many had suffered through this?_

They just stood there, staring at each other. Mercer wasn't moving. Neither was Cole.  _How long did they stand here?_

Holy shit. What was he supposed to do?

_What had he unleashed?_

“Cole!” The courier jerked back, arms snapping up in a defensive position.

There was no need for panic, though- it was the warden and a large group of officers that came rushing towards them, through a massive hole in the fence. They must have used them as distraction.

“You got Alden?” Cole blinked, trying to work his brain. His eyes found Mercer again, who suddenly wasn't wearing his leather jacket or usual hoodie anymore. Without the hood up, his expression was clearly visible. He seemed... _incredibly annoyed_ , if anything. At least he didn't murder the people here, and his voice was still in his usual low growl.

“We got Alden”, the terrorist supplied, then he stepped back. Cole exhaled shakily when the tension started to ease up, and he stepped away too to allow the cops grab the old man and drag him away. Warden Harms took his radio and picked up his voice. “Attention all units. Tate is in custody. En route to the Eagle Point Penitentiary.” Harms glanced at Cole, before his hand clasped his shoulder. “Good work”, he praised him, obviously oblivious to the way the courier jerked back upon contact.

“Yeah-thanks”, Cole forced a grin. “Uh...gotta call the one who's gonna pick him up.” Harms nodded and pulled back, allowing the courier to call Moya.

“Moya”, he exclaimed with a shaking voice. “Cops nabbed Alden. They're taking him to the pen.”

“ _Good work”_ , the woman replied, _“My extraction team is prepped and ready, but the military is dragging its feet with the clearances.”_

Cole swallowed. “Let me guess. I have to go to the prison and make sure he stays there, right?”

“ _Correct”_ , Moya paused, her voice lowering. _“And, according to the way your voice is shaking, I'm sure you've just noticed what kind of fucked-up science project your pet terrorist is, am I right?”_ Cole inhaled sharply, not _wanting_ to remember the way the Dustman was absorbed into Mercer's body. Moya cleared her throat. _“Make sure this thing stays in your line of vision and away from Alden, am I understood?”_

“Yeah”, the courier acknowledged. “Crystal.”

“ _Good boy.”_

 

 


	20. Alden in Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some prison action. The bloody kind.

**Alden in Chains**

 

The way to the penitentiary was the longest way Cole ever went. Not  _physically_ the longest- the 'Tent City' was just in the middle of the Warren and the prison was near the most south-eastern corner- but mentally it was different. Mercer had left quickly after the cops were gone. Cole was aware he would be around- he wasn't too far away from him anymore ever since they had this little heart-to-heart, but right now, the simple notion of Alex Mercer scared the shit out of the courier.

He had  _seen_ him eat (consume, devour, whatever) the Dustman conduit. He had seen the guy twist and break away into something that didn't even look human. He had seen Mercer himself shift and twist, before he turned back into himself, acting like nothing happened.

Did he?

Cole did remember the expression on his face as he glanced at him. Mercer didn't seem to know what to do with emotions (but being something that rode around in a dead man's body, he assumed he didn't really know what emotions were), though if you looked closely, it was possible to pick up his train of thoughts.

And back then- Cole swallowed back the bile at the memories- Mercer did actually look like he  _regretted_ what he had done. Almost like he was ashamed of it. But wasn't that what he really was? It was his true nature, something he couldn't remove from himself, no matter how much he (or anybody else) wanted to. Pretty much like a dog. You could grow up with it, you could give it names, walk it, play with it, maybe even dress it in those stupid little shirts, but deep down it was still a predator.

“I'm sorry you had to see that.” Mercer's voice was more than enough to drop Cole into a defensive crouch with lightning arching all around him. Shit. He was aware the guy was a sentient _and_ sapient weapon, but he wouldn't have believed they even managed to weaponize his _voice_.

He sat on one of the pillars on either side of the bridge opposite of the prison complex, one knee pulled up to his chest, the other leg hanging down. “The consuming. I've seen grown-ass men puke their guts out when I took their buddies.”

Cole shook himself, feeling his spine go ice-cold and the hot bile creeping back up his throat. He forced both back, though. “Little warning next time, please?”

Mercer snorted. “I'll try.”

The courier glanced at the other guy. “Just you know...Moya told me to  _not_ let you anywhere near Alden...” He cleared his throat. “You wanted to eat him?”

“Yes”, was the cold reply, and Cole felt himself getting sick again.

“Why? You know we need Alden so Moya's keeping her damn fingers off Empire.”

“Alden was going to go to her. Was going to get _near_ her”, Mercer answered and Cole's brain lurched into clarity. Of course!

Mercer was able to take the face of people he ate. He could  _become_ his victims. He wanted to take Alden's place...

“To get Moya”, Cole gasped, feeling his blood fade from his face. “Shit- you wanted to _eat_ Moya?!”

“And everybody else on her payroll”, Mercer replied. Cold. Without any emotions. Just plain and simple. _Yes_. He _wanted_ to murder his way through her troops. “She is a threat”, the terrorist added. And shit- it made sense. Twisted sense and utterly terrifying, but sense none-the-less. “To you. To me. To Empire. She needs to be removed permanently.”

“Holy crap”, the courier gasped. “And I blew it?”

Much to his surprise, the man shook his head. “I blew it myself. I had the chance. I didn't take it. Saving your ass- well, I don't enjoy watching my allies die. So you had a higher priority.”

_Huh._ Cole blinked. So he really meant something to the walking genocide. Good to know.

Mercer exhaled annoyed. “It was about the last thing that was clearly on my mind. You see- I work differently to you. You can abort eating any time you want- I can not. My body produces excess infective agents, Biomass moves aside to allow the fresh one to settle in- my purpose was to infect and adapt, and whenever I consume, it knocks out my brain chemistry completely. I can not stop it, don't know how.” He shook his head. “I  _should never_ stop it. I've seen what happens when the contact gets interrupted. Either they turn into something like I am- or they blow up from some sort of violent rejection.”

Yuck. Cole was going to stop his brain right there, because that single thought was pretty disgusting. He swallowed heavily and glanced at the other. “So when you took down Alden and wanted to eat him- you didn't?”

“No. I aborted it myself. But my body doesn't take 'no' as answer. I was about to consume- and consume was what I was going to do, come Hell or high water.” He scoffed. “The Dustman was the only other option besides Alden. Or you.”

Cole choked. So it was either that poor bastard- or  _him_ . He would definitely need some time to digest this. “But you didn't”

“Because I respect you. And because I am aware of this. I was made like this, after all.”

Holy shit, there were some people in the world that were seriously sick in the head if they thought that making something like Mercer was actually a _good_ idea. Again- it wasn't his fault, he didn't ask for being created. And if one stopped and thought for a moment, then he was actually the better person. As insane as it sounded, the thing that had to eat people to survive was the better choice if compared to those that created him in the first place.

Nothing in the world was easy, or actually nice, if you looked at it closely. And  _shit_ . He knew Mercer was like this. More even, he had more or less given him the go-ahead. In Empire, it was either eat or be eaten. Sometimes a little more literal than otherwise.

Cole heaved a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping. “Okay”, he grumbled. “I'm going to be honest with you- You are frickin' sick and you scare the living Hell out of me- but you are the best choice for this entire mess.” He threw his arms up. “And I seriously can't believe I'm talking to you  _without_ puking my guts out, but I do need your help here. This damn golem thing? It nearly killed me. And you just walk up to it and rip it to pieces.” He waved his arm towards the towering complex of concrete and barbed wire. “But this here is too much for me. Harms and the others took back the prison, but they can't hold it. Not against all those Dustmen out there. They will want to get Alden back, and I can not stop them on my own. We really need your god-damned superpowers here.”

“Alden is not supposed to escape. I know.” Mercer slipped off the pillar and landed on the floor with a solid _crack_. “Let's do this.”

The courier exhaled slightly, though he did keep his distance from the viral Supermutant.

“Hey Cole! Hey Alex!” Both men paused, turning into the direction of the prison. Zeke came running towards them, his characteristic wobbling gait noticeable even from a distance. “Good to see both of you!”

Cole furrowed his brows. “Zeke? What the Hell are you doing here?”

“Well”, his roommate puffed out his chest. “I'm helpin' the cops, of course.”

The courier blinked. “I thought you hated cops?”

“Things have changed, man”, Zeke crossed his arms. “And any lawman still holdin' out in this Hellhole is the real deal. You gotta respect this, man.” He clapped Cole's shoulder. “C'mon. Harms wants to meet you for the juicy bits.”

Zeke lead them to the warden, who was just discussing with his men. Cole rang up Moya. “I'm at the prison, Moya”, he informed her.

“ _It's nice we're working together again”_ , the woman commented dryly. _“Now, the Dustmen are going to hit with everything they got- and the extraction team is still twenty miles away.”_

Harms cleared his throat. “We'll do whatever it takes to keep Tate secure, Ma'am”, he claimed.

“ _Good”_ , the agent acknowledged. _“Oh. Another thing, though. I hope you are aware of the...less than friendly elements around you.”_

“Ma'am?” Cole noticed Mercer going ramrod straight, eyes narrowing.

Moya's smirk was nearly audible.  _“Cole's friend”_ , she explained.  _“I'm sure you already met him. Some elements like to refer to him as 'ZEUS', though I'm sure you are aware of him under another name. The Terrorist of Manhattan.”_

Mercer's growl made everybody around back off startled, Harms and the cops staring wide-eyed at him while Cole was frozen to the ground.  _“Ah. Pipe down”_ , Moya ordered coldly.  _“You try anything funny, and I won't be able to stop myself from telling Blackwatch.”_

“Mercer! Holy shit!” Harms bit out. “Cole- were you aware of this?!”

“ _He was”_ , Moya commented, _“But don't worry- Mercer was just the scapegoat for this entire FUBAR. Pretty much like Cole, though there's no denying that he can and will murder whoever gets in his way. Which is exactly why he is perfectly suited for this.”_

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Mercer snapped enraged. “You don't know what you just did!”

“ _Oh. I know it very well, ZEUS. I just made sure you don't need to hold back. Also, I am certain none of the 'good' people of Empire are even aware Blackwatch exists. Right now, I hold all the cards. Now be a good weapon and do what you were made to do- obey your makers and stop these idiots.”_

“Don't you _think_ you have a chance, Moya”, Mercer hissed, eyes flashing red and tentacles whipping out of his surface, gathering around his arms and twisting them into his giant wicked claws. The police officers backed off some more, rifles going up.

“ _I am perfectly aware”_ , the woman replied, _“I had Viral Scanners installed here, to 'prevent' the plague victims from breaking the quarantine. However, as soon Blacklight triggers them, Blackwatch will be notified. If you do what I tell you to, nobody has to know.”_

“Bitch”

“ _Yes. I've been told. Now listen closely- you are to make sure no Dustman makes it to Alden, got it?”_

Mercer hissed hatefully, and Cole winced. Shit, he  _knew_ how the guy felt. He had managed to keep hidden for  _three years_ , and now Moya comes marching in and loudly announced his presence to all of Empire City.

“Moya”, Mercer snarled as his leather jacket and hood formed out of _nowhere_ and threw his face into darkness, and several spots around his talons and arms started to glow eerily orange. “You just made an enemy you can't even hope to beat. I will kill you, if I ever see your face around here. I will kill you slowly. Painfully. You will be _begging_ me to end it.”

“ _If”_ , Moya replied simply. She cut the connection, leaving the courtyard in startled silence.

Zeke was the first to speak. “Well...that could have gone better?”

Mercer whipped around with a snarl, so Zeke jerked back. “Hey, not me. I'm just tryin' to break the awkwardness.” He spread his arms out. “I mean, no use cryin' over spilt milk, right? Now we gotta stop these trash-baggers from gettin' that old coot back.”

“He's right”, Harms agreed with a shaking voice. “Shit, it's just one thing after the other. Gangs taking over, all these people with powers, now frickin' _Mercer_ himself...” He shook his head. “I'm so going to retire once this is all over.”

“You have every right to”, Cole sighed, then turned to the angry mutant. “I'm sorry this ended this way, and if you really want to have some privacy, I understand but...”

“I'm not going to leave here”, Mercer replied with a growl. “Moya pissed me off. Now someone else has to die if I can't get her.”

“Yeah...right”, Cole cleared his throat, oddly relieved the guy was still going to stick around. “Just...no murdering anybody who isn't wearing a trash bag, okay?”

Mercer growled again. Cole turned to Harms. “I know this is screwed up, but- I've seen the files on Manhattan. And pretty much everything that happened there had started long before the Outbreak. So Mercer's not the one to blame. Just- just trust me on this, okay?”

Harms inhaled sharply. “I'm going to”, he claimed, “But...it's not that easy. I'll be needing to see the evidence, though.”

“You'll get it”, Mercer grated, eyes narrowing. “After this.”

“I'm trusting you on this, and we got bigger problems anyways”, Harms exclaimed, “So here's what we're going to do: We need to keep the courtyard under watch so we can transfer the prisoners into the secure B-Block. Alden's in the A-Block, we can't risk him having any contact with other criminal elements.”

“I'm going to defend the courtyard”, Cole claimed.

“I'm on the wall”, Mercer growled. “Stop them from even coming close.”

“You're going to stop them? That's crazy”, the warden muttered.

“No less crazy than me being able to shoot lightning”, the courier pointed out. “We just have to keep this up until Moya's men got here and took Alden out of the district.” He paused, when his hair stood on edge. He focused and sent out a radar pulse. It came back to him, warning him of approaching Dustmen.

Lots of them.

“Hurry”

Mercer leapt off the floor and landed against the walls, then pushed himself off and out of their line of vision. Harms barked orders at his men, while Zeke pulled at Cole's arm. “C'mon, brother. Got to show you something before the thing blows.”

They rushed to the courtyard, Zeke pointing at the mesh overhead. “Check this out: I whipped up somethin' nice for you.”

Cole followed his finger, noticing the walkway above was charged up. Electricity was roaring through the metal. Deadly to everybody else, but a real feast to him.

“Great. Might help me get these bastards off your back.”

“I know, right?”

There was an explosion nearby, making both whip around startled. “No time left, Zeke”, Cole growled. “Quick. Make sure you keep Alden under control.”

“On it, man”, Zeke rushed off, while Cole pulled himself upwards. As soon as he made contact with the surface, every cell in his body was charged up. He glared darkly at the wall, seeing Mercer on its highest point. Here went nothing.

* * *

 

Boiling hot  _rage_ was surging through Alex's body. It was in every cell of Blacklight, roaring through its system in a glowing white wave of wrath. There was nothing he wanted to do more than eradicate every last person who knew about him. They were a threat to his security, to  _Dana's_ security.

And three years ago, he would have done so. But he had changed. He wasn't the same thing anymore. He had revealed himself to MacGrath on his own free will, and the cops-  _Moya_ had dragged them into this. Moya was using them as meat shields,  _innocent_ humans to swallow up his rage. But Alex was aware that if he killed them for closure, then he wouldn't be any better than the Dustmen. He wouldn't be any better than Greene. He wouldn't be anything else than a monster.

He  _couldn't_ kill them. It was dangerous to leave them alive and knowing, he knew. But they didn't had any saying in this matter. Killing them would make matters only worse. However, at the same time, he had to let the rage out. And the Dustmen were  _perfect_ targets.

Alex had watched them, had seen how they pulled closer. There were several golems too. They wanted to tear down the walls. For this, they catapulted balls made of trash metal and set ablaze with gas and oil over the walls, trying to break into the walkway. MacGrath had them- Alex watched how the man slammed them back with those shockwaves of his, sending them tumbling either right back over the walls or crashing into the courtyard.

He himself took the cars they used as projectiles. His claws melted away and turned into his Musclemass in an instant, just as he pounced off the wall and caught the first car in mid-air. In one motion, he had twisted around and flung it back to the Dustmen, before he even landed at the other side. Cars as projectiles were he second favorite ones after air conditioning units, actually. Though they weren't handy at the top of buildings, they had the advantage of  _exploding_ when thrown with enough force, thus generating more destruction. So he tried take out as many of the Dustmen as somehow possible, using the vehicles they shot at the prison. He avoided the flaming projectiles, however. He did not fancy losing Biomass through burning, even though he did have enough. It was simply a mental thing. After the thermobaric tanks and the nuclear explosion, he steered clear of fire whenever possible. Of course, he could always use his Armor, but then he would lose speed and agility.

He stopped for a second, arm twisting into his Whipfist to lash out and rend several of the men to pieces- but the angle was more than awkward and the guys didn't stop. They only rushed against the walls in waves, tried to shoot him off- or clear a way for the Golems. Alex snarled and shifted back to his claws, then leapt off the wall and into the group of Dustmen. His talons easily ripped through flesh and cheap armor. Bullets impacting into his body he could ignore, the hot blaze of the self-made firebombs he dodged. He rocketed skywards, eyes focused on the swarm of Dustmen below. He hadn't been aware that there had been _that_ _many_ criminals and homeless in the city before.

_FWASH_

Alex just barely managed to bring his arms up when a RPG missile exploded right in his face, blasting off a good chunk of his upper body and sending him careening through the air. He snarled, trying to catch himself, but without most of a  _head_ he didn't know where 'up' was.

He did find the floor quickly enough in the form of a brutal impact. Alex snarled and writhed, and tried to regenerate his face, when a series of incendiary grenades hit him. Military-grade incendiary grenades.  _Where the fuck did they have these from?!_ Fire ravaged across his surface, tore through his Biomass and turned large parts of him to ash. It wasn't as bad as a thermobaric shell, but it still  _hurt like fuck!_

The Blacklight Runner hissed in pain, struggling to get away. He had seriously underestimated them, had underestimated how driven they were- and he had failed to find out what kind of weapons they employed.

And he was paying the price for his arrogance- He didn't have a body at the moment, damnit. He had to get away and regenerate, before he could try to take these fucks again. Strands of Biomass immediately dug into the ruined ground, and quickly dragged him beneath the surface with wet slurping sounds. Away from the fire.

He squirmed deeper and deeper until he found what seemed to be a roomy steam tunnel, where his ruined body collapsed into a pile on the ground. The entire mass went slack, though his conscious mind was thrashing on the inside.

But he couldn't take his time. Not now. He had promised to stop these idiots, had promised to keep the walls intact- and he was going to do so.

The mass made a wet gargling noise before Blacklight rose up, curled in on itself and began growing again, regenerating back into Alex Mercer as fast as somehow possible, who rolled over with a groan. He could still feel the tremors from the battle above them, meaning he couldn't drag his ass.

Pain was only psychosomatic to him, it shouldn't slow him down at all, but he still felt sore from the burning and the overall loss of Biomass. With massive effort, he still struggled to his feet, took a short second to right himself, before he dashed down the steam tunnel, eyes glued to the ceiling. Within moments, he found a maintenance hatch and changed his trajectory, going for it. He crashed through the hatch like a rocket, shooting straight upwards and creating his armor for protection. Agility be damned if it meant he got burnt into a puddle again. He had underestimated these fucks big time.

_Too arrogant, Mercer_ , Cross's voice sneered.

Alex quickly realized he was a little north from the prison, but that was actually ideal. With the Dustmen surging to the front, nobody was going to notice him coming from behind. He charged down the street, finding those idiots furthest in the back of the group running to the front.

He was faster.

Alex grabbed the first one and slammed his knee into his face, splattering his skull and consumed him. Before his victim was even finished dragging inside his armor, he had already seized the next one and torn him in half length-wise, consuming him too with a series of wet slurps and smacking noises.

Six more Dustmen went this way before he felt ready to continue fighting. But by then the others noticed him, and tried to frantically take him down. Though with his armor, he was impervious to damage to the point that even RPG missiles only scorched his surface and threw him slightly off balance.  _Should have done this sooner._

Alex, however, did notice the giant hole in the wall of the Eagle Point Penitentiary.  _Fuck. How much time had passed?_

The Runner shot to the front, talons spread away from his body to slice through the Dustmen on either side. The close quarters did him favors, as they couldn't dodge fast enough and were summarily ripped to pieces.

He saw the glow of two golems, and instantly shifted to the Hammerfists. He didn't slow down when he pounced on the first one, concrete-like fists slamming hard into the metallic shell to dent it. The golem stumbled to the front, unable to shake him. Alex snarled and brought his fists down a second time, caving the shell in with so much force the metal tore in half. He pushed off the construct's back and dove inside it, tackling into the conduit. The force of the impact killed him instantly, and his remains were quickly pulled into the Blacklight Biomass. The golem collapsed around Alex, who wasted no time to lunge at the second one.

This one did manage to swing around and backhand him hard enough to throw him back, where he crashed into the floor, smashing three Dustmen with his weight.

Alex snarled and easily lunged back to his feet. This was beginning to get tedious. He had seriously  _no_ idea what was going on in the prison at the moment, but he knew he had to end this  _fast_ . 

He ceased all movement and pulled his arms against his chest, hunching his back as he dropped into a half-crouch. Tendrils rushed across his surface, his insides writhing frenzied. He pulled back his armor, dragged every spare amount of Biomass deeper into himself, condensing himself into tighter and tighter layers. An impossible amount of pressure was starting to grow on his inside, held back only by his sheer force of will. Alex grit his teeth, curling his body more to force his Biomass in even denser layers, pushing it past the limits that Blacklight was comfortable with.

Then he let go.

His world was drowned out in pain, screams and bursting brick and mortar.

* * *

 

Cole did not have a very good time. It had started out quite frantic and only turned more stressful after that way too fast.

He had reflected the burning balls of metal back to the Dustmen for a while, had watched how his ally had jumped around while frickin' catching and throwing back entire cars from mid-air, before he dove out of sight.

The courier did hear the screams and explosions from the other side of the wall, relaxing slightly. It was screwed up- people  _died_ out there, yet he felt relieved. Mostly because the people out there were exactly those bastards he wanted to see dead anyways and he didn't had to deal with them himself.

His body was screaming at him to take it slower, but Cole knew perfectly well he  _couldn't_ . Zeke was still  _right there_ , just below him in the fenced-off walkway and kept an eye on the process of the cops taking the prisoners to a new cell block. So the courier couldn't allow  _anything_ to get past him.

He slammed one shockwave after another in the flaming projectiles that were hurled over the walls and winced every time the redirected trash ball collided with the prison walls. He became just barely aware a massive explosion that seemed to drown down every other sound around them.

At least it did halt the assault for a moment. He watched for a few moments longer before he doubled over with a groan, panting in exertion. Even the currents running through him did little to put him back on his feet.

“Good job, brother!” Zeke cheered as he came jogging from the cell blocks. “The boys in blue moved all the lops to their new cell blocks!”

Cole paused, frowning down at his friend. “What the Hell is a 'lop'?”

“The prisoners, man”, his friend replied, glancing up at him from over his glasses, “You know, a shank-holder?”

Cole inclined his head, brows pulled together. Zeke threw his arms up. “C'mon!” He complained, “Go with the lingo!”

“Zeke”, the courier grumbled, “I am pretty sure there are more pressing matters at the moment.”

The wall across the courtyard exploded, and dozens of Dustmen came rushing inside.

Zeke cleared his throat. “Like these trash-baggers?”

“Like these trash-baggers”, Cole confirmed with a moan.

“Well, uh, guess I leave 'em to you then?”

“Run”

Cole threw up his arms, unleashing powerful lightning bolts to knock these idiots back. His pulse had sped up, his heart slamming madly against his ribs. He had to stop these guys, had to make sure they stayed the Hell away from the prison, from Alden and especially Zeke.

“No way man!” Zeke yelled back, “My guns are locked an loaded!”

“Zeke!” Cole bit out, lugging a grenade into the group of Dustmen, “These guys will kill you! Go help the cops lock up Alden!”

More Dustmen came through the breach, not stopping in the least when he zapped a few. He heard the warden shout via intercom at his men to man the turrets. But this wouldn't stop the transients. Okay. Change of plans. Cole instantly shifted his mental focus back to the explosive ball lightnings Zeke dubbed 'Megawatt Hammer' and started to fire them. They caused much more destruction than his normal lightning bolts, and with the electricity around him it was easy to constantly use them without running out of juice.

But the question was,  _Where the Hell was Mercer?!_ Damnit, he had seen him jump off the wall to take out the Dustmen, but this amount here was clearly too much for people just getting past him.  _Shit. Did something happen to him?_ He had promised to keep them away from the walls, but judging by the way the Dustmen flooded the courtyard he wasn't doing a very good job.

Cole shook his head, ducking to avoid a series of bullets to the face. He couldn't think like that- he had way too many guys on his ass now. He stumbled back when high-speed bullets impacted into his chest, though the electrical current going through him easily fixed him back up. Didn't mean it didn't hurt, though; and he distinctly felt the air smashed out of his lungs and his heart jump inside his chest.

He tried to focus, tried to remember the lightning storm he had summoned back when fighting Mercer, tried to summon it to blow the Hell out of these guys.

Nothing happened.  _Crap_ . Looks like that thing was purely a product of panic or something, and right now he wasn't panicking  _enough_ .

Thank you _very_ much.

Cole grit his teeth and started to fire his massive ball lightnings, changing them for grenades a few times to take out these bastards that hid behind cover. It went pretty well, up until a missile impacted besides him, taking out the grid he was running on. The courier was bodily flung off it and smacked harshly into the ground. One of the cops that have stormed the courtyard to shoot at the Dustmen pulled him back to his feet, before he quickly ducked back behind cover.

_Double Crap_ .

“Zeke!” He barked into his phone, “Courtyard's being overrun! Make sure you keep Alden under control!”

“ _Don't worry bro! Harms is here and a bunch of others. Plus we got him strapped to a box of springs back here. Five thousand watts surging through his sorry ass. Bastard's out cold.”_

He was impressed. “Was that your idea?”

“ _Nah”_ , Zeke replied, _“The warden came up with it. Had to figure out a way to keep Alden from using his powers. Luckily it worked. Dude was bad news.”_

Good. That was at least one problem down. Let's see about the hundreds of others...

Cole stopped, eyes going wide. Golems. Plural. Two of them.

“Triple Crap!” Cole swore violently. “Shit! Where the Hell is that lazy bastard?!” He had promised to stop them before they became Cole's problem, after all. But he didn't, and now they _were_ his problem. Did he simply abandon them to use the distraction and go after Moya?

_Son of a--_

The second golem suddenly staggered to the front, the tell-tale orange-reddish glow of Mercer's armor betraying his position.

Cole exhaled partially annoyed. He really hoped that freak hadn't taken some time off just to make his dramatic entrance now. Because he really couldn't need somebody who was unreliable.

But then he heard the low growl and felt the  _rage_ radiating off the other man, and he watched how the guy slammed into the golem's chest hard, just a second before the thing collapsed. Mercer then lunged at the second, though got backhanded quickly.

He didn't stay down though, but suddenly stopped movin as soon he was back to his feet. That was when Cole realized something was going to go down. His own senses cried at him to get the Hell away. He charged to the front, grabbing one of the cops. “Get away!” He yelled, “Now!”

“Why?!” The man demanded to know, though he and the others did pull back. Cole watched Mercer's body curl in on itself, armor vanishing and tentacles rushing across his surface. “No idea!” He barked, “But whatever's going to happen, it won't be pretty!”

Mercer literally exploded.

Thousands of tentacles shot into every direction with the power of a cannon blast. Cole couldn't even  _see_ the center of it, wasn't even sure  _what_ exactly the center was, but nothing around would have had a shot at surviving.

The cluster of tentacles was too densely packed, too powerful for anything. The Dustmen closest had been turned to paste  _instantly_ , those further away found themselves impaled and held aloft. But the blast not only took out living things. 

The spears also easily burrowed through solid concrete and steel, ripped through it like it was wet paper, leaving gaping holes in the walls, the floor and the golem.

The total reach of these things was massive, easily sixty feet in every direction. Needless to say the courtyard was pretty much cleaned out. Cole swallowed, watching the tentacles slowly drift through the air. He was just glad he and the cops managed to get away in time, because this blast left no chance for survival.

Then, like a rubber band, every tentacle snapped back to their source at the same time, leaving the corpses of countless Dustmen to collapse to the ground.

Mercer himself rose out of the crouch he had been in, his body utterly ruined. However, as he stepped towards them, his torn flesh mended in a heartbeat, and his armor slid back over his surface, leaving him completely unharmed by the time he took a third step.

The courtyard however...

Cole swallowed, fully aware that he should be puking his guts out at the moment. Just his terror had frozen his stomach and everything he could do was stare at the amount of destruction. Judging from the expression the other cops had, they were thinking the same.

Nothing was in one piece anymore. Lamp posts had been knocked over, walls and watchtowers had been broken, the ground was dug up, bodies and parts of bodies littered everything.

_Holy shit_ . Was this what had happened in Manhattan? Was this the way he fought against his enemies?  _Crap_ . Mercer didn't lie when he said he was a weapon. Just, he wouldn't have believed he could cause  _that_ much destruction, with  _one_ attack, no less.

But Hell if it wasn't efficient.

His phone rang, taking his attention away.  _“Cole, man. What the Hell was that just now?!”_ Zeke sounded pretty much like Cole felt.

The courier grimaced, glancing at the shape of Alex Mercer, who stood away from them, arms crossed. “Mercer”, he bit out, “Just gave us a demonstration. Pretty effective too. Because  _everything_ is dead up here.”

“ _Wow. Wish I'd seen it”_ , Zeke commented. Cole noticed a few of the cops around turn green. He cleared his throat. “Don't let up, Zek. I'm sure these assholes are going to come back soon enough.”

“ _Yeah. I feel ya, brother-”_ Zeke cut himself off. _“Crap on a stick!”_ He swore. _“The trash-baggers just killed the power.”_

“Wait- Alden?!”

“ _Didn't come around yet. But you better hurry. You need to restart the generators on the roof before he wakes up.”_

Cole swore. “Shit.” He swung around, face set in a grim expression. “Mercer!” He snapped, making the cops flinch back. “You make sure  _nothing_ gets in here, got it?!” He nearly told him to screw everything and just  _eat_ Alden, but he swallowed that back. No reason to piss Moya off, and it was just the generator that needed to be fixed.

The viral super weapon snarled. “Sure”

Cole swung around, leaving the few correction officers alone in the courtyard as he scaled the tall prison complex. He pulled himself on a roof just four stories further up when he noticed a group of Dustmen.  _Just how in the name of God did they get here?!_ These were probably with the guys that killed the power, so Cole made short process of them. He risked a glance back downwards where a black blur was already rushing along the prison's outer perimeters, taking out Dustmen who tried to sneak up from different angles.

The courier could easily continue his way, though it wasn't exactly a walk in the park. The penitentiary was heavily damaged, and most of the way he could only manage by climbing. But there was no time to feel sorry- he had to hurry and get the generator back online to prevent Alden from waking up. Luckily, he did find the generator, pleasantly surprised to recognize it of the same make as the substations beneath the city. So switching it back on was easy- just zap the front panel until the thing came to life.

“ _Get your tail back down here!”_ , Zeke shrieked through the phone, _“More trash-baggers!”_

“What?!”

Cole growled and rushed to the roof to see another wall collapse. Annoyed, he slammed the call button. “Moya?! How long is this still taking?!”

“ _Calm down”_ , the agent replied, _“The extraction team is nearly there. ETA, four minutes.”_

“Damnit!”

“ _Make sure they'll get Alden.”_

Cole hissed and jumped back into the courtyard, were some more Dustmen appeared. Seriously, didn't they have any sort of self-preservation?

The troop that rushed towards him didn't get any further before a mess of giant black spikes from the ground utterly eviscerated them all. Mercer stepped up besides Cole, head cocked to the side. “What the fuck is up with them?!” He growled, “This isn't even tactic. This is just suicidal.”

“Yeah, I hear you”, Cole shook his head, eyes narrowing. “Two more golems.”

“On it”, Mercer replied before he dove at the two massive constructs. Cole watched in fascination how the other man tore through these things, one talon swiftly shifting back into his giant wicked blade that sliced through the metal like butter. From afar, he could actually enjoy the show.

“Time for some payback, bitches!” Cole whirled around at the sound of Zeke's voice, eyes widening in shock when he saw his best friend rush out, gun at the ready.

“What the Hell are you doing, Zeke?!” The courier snapped, “I told you to stay with Alden!”

Zeke waved him off, ducked behind cover. “That old man ain't going nowhere. They got him dressed up like a spring goose.”

Cole opened his mouth to say something, but Mercer beat him to the punch as he jumped in front of Zeke to take the bullets meant for his friend. “This isn't right”, he grated. “This blind charge.”

“This isn't tactic. You already mentioned that”, Cole replied. His eyes narrowed on the still approaching Dustmen. He realized how badly they were shaking, most of them flinched back when they noticed the remains of the others. 

“They don't want to be here”, Cole realized “They don't want to fight us.”

“Of course not!” Zeke grinned. “'Cause we're stronger than them.”

“No”, Mercer growled. “Not that.” He whirled around as his armor melted away. “This is a fucking _distraction._ ”

“Dis-” Cole's eyes widened in realization. “The _steam tunnels_!”

“ _They're all over!”_ Somebody shouted over the intercom, making all three whip around, _“Help! Anyone! They're kil-”_

“Oh Crap”

Mercer was the first to move. Like a meteor, he crashed through the prison doors, rushing inside. Cole followed as fast as he could, but he already realized that they were too late. There were dead cops all over the place. The acrid smell of blood and gun powder hung in the stale air of the prison. Cole swallowed and followed after Mercer, already knowing what they'll find.

Alden was gone. The room he'd been in was slick with gore. They never got any backup.

Zeke just stood there, staring at the massacre. Cole could see the guilt on his face, knowing he would never forgive himself for this.

The Dustmen only managed to free Alden because Zeke had left his position.

They had lost. They had sacrificed a whole lot of good people and still lost.

“Cole-” Zeke tried to say, but he cut him off with a snarl. “Save it”, he growled as he turned and marched back outside. He felt Zeke trying to say something, but he didn't dare to. It was his fault Alden got free. If he had stayed, then they would have taken down the Dustmen.

“Cole”

“I said save it!” Cole barked enraged, realizing in exactly that second that it hadn't been Zeke's voice.

It was Mercer's.

The hooded man stood there, glancing at the courier. Cole glared back. Mercer frowned and held out his hand, palm up. “Your phone”, he demanded.

“My phone?”

“Moya's going to be pissed. You _are_ already pissed. Not a good combination.”

“What? Why should it interest you?!”

“You aren't thinking clearly at the moment”, Mercer pointed out. “Let me do the talking with Harms and Moya. You go to Trish. Drink something. Eat something. Sleep. I don't care. But make sure your brain's no longer out of whack tomorrow.”

Cole glared, but then dropped his phone into the other's hand anyways. He didn't spare Zeke another glance though as he swept out of the prison complex.

 


	21. Secrets revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alden:1, Cole and gang: 0.  
> Things could have gone better, I guess.

** Secrets revealed **

 

You knew things were fucked up when  _Alex Mercer_ was the voice of reason. The Runner grimaced as he checked the steam tunnels the Dustmen escaped through. A dead end, just like all the others. These fucks had more brains than he believed them to have.

As he walked back, he found Dunbar devastated.

“Ah shit”, the man muttered, “I really screwed up this time.”

“Why?” Alex questioned. “Because the Dustmen freed Alden?” He inclined his head, glancing at the massacre around them. “I doubt you'd made any difference.”

“What? Do you think so little of me?”

“Yes.” The Blacklight Prototype waved his arm towards the corpses. “These men were trained, better armed and in better physical conditions. Yet still they're dead.” He frowned at the other. “What makes you think you would have survived?”

Zeke blinked at him, then leaned back with a moan. “Ah shit.”

“You humans don't really the outcome”, Alex pointed out. “You simply don't understand how _fragile_ you are. Even MacGrath's fragile. Yet neither of you seems to understand this.” He exhaled. “If you want to help, start by getting these guys out of here. I'll go find Harms, have him send a few more guys to help you.”

He turned and was about to walk outside, when the door opened. Harms, who sported a bandage around his head, and a few of his men stopped in the doorway, staring at the massacre.

“Holy-”

“Dustmen”, Alex cut them off roughly.

“What? How?!” Harms glared at the Runner. Alex simply pointed to a torn-out hatch.

“The steam tunnels”, he explained. “The fight in the courtyard- it was only distraction. The real troop came in through the steam tunnels. Killed the men here and freed Alden.”

“And nobody realized this?”

“Not soon enough”, Alex hissed, painfully aware that he _could_ have known. Fuck- every single Dustman he killed _knew_ they were the distraction. He could have known, _too_ , but he hadn't taken the proper precautions. He had splattered the men's brains instead of taking them whole, leaving him with no information. He _could_ have known. He could have prevented this here. But he didn't.

And a lot of good men were dead.

“We didn't know”, he repeated, voice a bit lower. “Don't try to chase them down now- they set charges inside the tunnels that sealed them off once they were in the clear. Tricky bastards.”

“Crap”, Harms sat down heavily. “What now? This woman's going to be here any minute. And without Alden-”

“I'm going to talk to her”, Alex offered, ears already picking off the beating of helicopter rotors. “Alden won't escape the next time”, he added darkly. “I promise.” He stalked out and headed for the destroyed courtyard, where the helicopter was hovering above. Alex glanced at the vehicle, switching the courier's phone on.

“Moya”, he grated, “Pull your dogs back.”

“ _Mercer”_ , She paused. _“Why?”_

“Alden escaped.”

“ _How?”_

“Distracted us with an army, and snuck away like a coward. That's how.” He didn't want to go into detail, mostly because it _hurt_ having to admit that an old man tricked the mighty ZEUS.

“ _So, you want to tell me you lost an old man, who was under lock and key?”_

“Not my fault”, Alex snarled, “If you had hurried up with the clearance like you DARPA bastards always do, then we wouldn't have this problem now.” His eyes narrowed. “Fuck, if you hadn't have these damn _weapons_ ordered, then these bastards would _never_ have been a problem in the first place!”

There was a sharp gasp from the other end.  _“What do you imply?”_ Well, to her credits, Moya did manage to keep her voice level.

“Don't give me that, Moya”, Alex replied coldly as he watched the helicopter circle overhead. “I _know_ it was _you_ who convinced General Bridges to get these weapons to Empire. And I'm talking here about military-grade arms, weapons able to hurt even _me_.” He cut her off before she could even answer. “I am aware of this. I _know_ the Ray Sphere was made by the First Sons- under order by DARPA. But it's not that simple, isn't it? There already was a Ray Sphere. Something that interested DARPA, wasn't it?” He bared his teeth in a snarl. “You _knew_. You knew this blast was going to happen. You _paid_ the First Sons to build the weapon.” He tilted his head back, glaring at the helicopter. “You know who Kessler is, and you are going to tell me.”

“ _You are moving on very thin ice at the moment, Mercer”_ , Moya growled in reply. _“I can still summon Blackwatch, you know?”_

“If you do, then I will have no problem releasing everything I have into the internet”, his bared teeth shone in the darkness. “I'll make sure I send the President and every big News company on the world a copy. Let's see how threatening you are once everybody knows about what DARPA did in Hope. What they did in Empire. What Blackwatch and Gentek did in Manhattan.”

“ _You wouldn't dare”_ , Moya snarled.

“I would”, Alex replied sharply. “I am aware that this would reveal even _my_ existence to everybody in the world. But I am tired of running. I am tired of hiding. I will stand my ground now. And if I go down- _everybody_ who fucked this up will go down too.” His eyes narrowed. “So, do you want to play this game, Moya? I got nothing to lose, after all.”

Moya sharply inhaled air with a hiss.  _“This isn't over, Mercer. Not by a long shot.”_

“It's not. I'll see you around.” He cut the connection, and the helicopter above turned and flew off, into the rapidly darkening sky.

Alex snorted, putting the phone back into his pocket. He just declared War on Moya, a War he intended to let the World witness if necessary. He knew people like her. They hated nothing more than being dragged into the light. And he just threatened to  _do_ just that. He was aware what kind of problems this would bring with it, but it was a risk he was ready to take.

He would no longer run and hide. He had the weapons, and he was damn sure going to use them. If Moya played along, he wouldn't need to. But it never hurt to be sure.

He glanced back at the prison. There was no need to rush anymore, they had lost. The men were dead and Alden was gone. He was downright  _furious_ for what happened, but raging wasn't going to save anything here anymore.

Instead, Alex exhaled once to push the urge back to simply  _maim_ something and headed back inside, to avoid the rainstorm that suddenly set in and trying to help the remaining cops with the bodies of their men and the Dustmen they killed. After all, their deaths were his fault, to a degree. So it was up to him to clear away the mess. Plus, he also respected the men for trying to hold their ground, even if it looked to him like the singular most idiotic idea ever. But they had been brave, and he could accept that.

The next step was easy to figure out: Find Alden and make him pay. Alex knew where he was going to be: In the Tent City, at his tower.  
He paused with a frown glancing at the rain outside. Maybe he should get MacGrath on it. He was going to  _love_ taking the bastard apart piece by piece. Alex didn't want to deny him his revenge, so he was going to wait until the courier came around. The old coot wasn't going to go anywhere.

There was a motion on his side, taking his attention for a moment. It was Harms, who shuffled his feet uncomfortably. No question, he didn't want to be anywhere near him.

“My men said you took out most of the Dustmen”, he pointed out.

“Didn't stop them from freeing Alden though”, Alex replied with a slightly bitter undertone.

“Yeah. Shame”, the warden sighed. “But you know, _this_ -”, he waved one arm to the bodies covered in sheets, “This could have looked _a lot_ worse.”

Alex only tilted his head, waiting for the warden to continue. “You and Cole- you stood here, fighting the transients off. Everybody else would have run, naturally. But you two- you had been there to try to stop them.”

“Without any success.”

“Yeah, but the effort _alone_ \- this is what counts.”

Alex snorted. “Is this really what you think?”

“Yes. I don't like what's happening in the city, and I try to fix it- but these large things? The Dustmen, the Reapers, the plague? It's too much for me. Hell, it's too much for my guys. But I've seen you and Cole fight back, I've seen you not taking it for granted. Alone the _effort_ of fighting back gives the people inspiration, you know?”

“But it's not enough.”

“No. No, it's not. Though...” The warden trailed off for a moment. “But if you take out Alden, then we'll have a chance to take back the Warren. From what I heard, the Reapers aren't that much of a threat anymore anyways. Just a little more, and we can take back the city. Make it right again. And show the World that we can do it even without the Government's help.” He paused, then added with a wink: “Show the World that not everybody who got called a terrorist is actually one of the bad guys.”

Despite himself, Alex chuckled slightly. “Yeah. Maybe.”

They were silent for a while, until Alex inclined his head. “Do you know how Dunbar's doing?” He told himself he didn't really care for the problems of humans, but a part of him recognized even the annoying fat man as something similar he sees Cross and Ragland. Not only an ally, but rather something more- a  _friend_ ? At any rate, Dana would be proud of him to make conversation.

The warden sighed. “He's pretty down, blames himself for what happened. I told him he was lucky, because if he'd been inside back then, he'd be out here in a body bag now.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “I told him to go home and get some rest. You should probably do the same.”

“Not yet”, Alex replied. “There are still some things I want to check out.” He turned to go, but stopped for a short moment. “Take care, Harms. Things are going to get even more rough in the foreseeable future.”

“Yeah. Got it.”

The Runner nodded and started walking out of the prison. The raining had stopped, and the ground was wet. He frowned at a few puddles on the sidewalks, before he decided to ignore them and picked up his pace. He went at a slow speed first, though was gradually speeding up until he was rushing along the streets for a short while before he leapt upwards and against a building. He headed north, to the center of the Warren. To the Tent City.

He could hear the cheering of the Dustmen from afar. They were fast to throw a party to celebrate their victory. Over the cops. Over MacGrath. Over  _him_ .

Well...time to remind them that they hadn't won  _yet_ . Plus, he was still being hungry. Between the incendiary grenades and his own Devastator, he was seriously lacking in Biomass.

Better fill up again. And make Alden remember  _who_ the real threat is.

Alex found a five-story tall building nearby and quickly mounted it. He turned, glancing at the Tent City nearby, switching to his thermic vision. He easily found the giant bonfire at the center of the place, just at the foot of Alden's tower- and he saw the hundreds of heat signatures surround it.

_Perfect_ .

The Blacklight Prototype crouched low and coiled the Biomass in his legs, curling it up like springs beneath his skin. His body twisted with countless tendrils that focused in his lower extremities as well, and when Alex released the pressure, he shot nearly eleven stories up. At the highest point, shortly before gravity took a hold of him, he unleashed air in a short burst, shoving his body forwards. He easily leaned to the front, so he was parallel to the ground far beneath him, and snapped his arms and legs back, gliding through the night sky. The imitated leather of his Biomass rippled through the sharp wind, and his hair was tousled beneath his hood.

Reaching the area just above the Dustmen was easy. Alex was silent and too high up for them to realize the danger they are in. It would be so simple to kill them all. Right now. With a single Bulletdive Drop. Or maybe a Groundshatter Drop, followed by one of his Groundspike Devastators.

As tempting as it was, Alex knew he wouldn't take it. Not here. Not now. No. If he did, Alden would survive and hide away. But Alex didn't want him to hide. He wanted to  _destroy_ Alden in every way possible. He wanted him to see his failure before he would go for his throat. And he wanted the courier to witness it. Alden had wronged the man, so it was his prize to watch him being annihilated.

Alex was not going to harm Alden or his Dustmen yet. Well, most of them, anyways.

He angled his body, letting gravity take over to drop downwards. He didn't exactly speed up voluntarily, but he was still weighing about as much as six men and he didn't slow down his fall either.

Five guys were dead on impact, six more injured, and the entire rest thrown into shock. Alex rose from the crater he tore and casually stepped to the front. His icy glare met Alden's hard stare, and neither of them broke it, even as Alex's sides and shoulders lost cohesion. The old man did flinch slightly when several thick tendrils curled out of the Runner's body, coiling through the air, before they latched onto the six injured Dustmen. Alex allowed himself to grin when he heard the startled shouts all around him, as well as the terrified screams of the six he grabbed. He relished in the disgusted expression Alden showed as Blacklight raced through his victim's bodies, twisting them into formless shapes of flesh. He rarely did this- consuming more than one person at once came with a splitting headache and a long time of vulnerability when his body was busy fitting the new Biomass- but it was an highly efficient way to quickly restock his Biomass supplies  _and_ intimidate whoever was watching.

Alex pulled his lips away from his teeth in a grin. “Well, I'm sorry for your guys here”, he began in a tone that only barely hid the rage in his voice, “But after our little dispute, I felt a little  _hungry_ . You understand.”

“What do you want?!” Alden screeched, “Do you want to mock me?!”

“Maybe a little”, the Runner replied with a nasty sneer, “But I am mostly here to... _congratulate_ you on a battle won.” Alden inhaled sharply, when Alex cut him off. “However, I wish to remind you that you did not win the _war_ , Alden.”

The Dustmen around had finally managed to grab their weapons, though until now, they didn't shoot. Alex glanced at the old man with utter contempt. “Remember this, Alden”, he pointed out, “You got lucky last time.  _Next_ time, however, I will not hold back. I will kill you, Alden.” He smirked and pulled back, not even letting the old man get to say a word. “Not now, though. I will stalk you. Maybe I'll wait in the shadows. Maybe I'll wear a familiar face. But I will be there. Every moment in your life I will be nearby. And the very moment you feel safe, I will strike.” His eyes had started to glow red. “This is a warning.” He leapt back skywards, shooting straight up and instantly changed trajectory to get away from the Tent City. He had left the old coot with a warning. The other Dustmen knew what he was able to do, so now he could sit by and wait for paranoia to finish the job. He would keep busy otherwise too. There were still some things left to do.

* * *

 

Cole  _knew_ that storming off wouldn't salvage the situation. He knew it, damnit. He still ran away.

He growled. He was so angry. At everything: Zeke, Mercer, the Dustmen...and most of all himself. How the heck could he had been so blind?  _Stupid stupid stupid_

The conduit roared out, an inhuman howl of sheer wrath, as he slammed his fist into a parked car, crashing it through the window. Shards of glass bit into his skin, leaving bloody scrapes in their wake. The electricity that crackled along his skin instantly ignited the gas, blowing the vehicle up not even a second later. The rush of superheated air across his skin was painful, but it did take his mind off the disaster. However, his own healing abilities quickly kicked in and repaired the damage done. Cole scowled. It wasn't enough.

He threw his hand out, blasting a shockwave into the cars standing at the other side of the street, sending them careening through the air to watch them crumble against the derelict buildings. He swung around, unleashing bolts of lightning as he reduced more cars to burning wreckages. It wasn't  _enough_ .

Cole roared out and the sky darkened, lightning flashed and thunder started to echo across the city. The courier paused, glaring at the clouds overhead. “And where the Hell have you been when I  _needed_ you?!” He yelled at the thunderstorm. Roaring thunder was his answer. He scowled and marched off, mood worsening when the clouds could no longer contain their load. It started raining.

The courier swore and rushed along the streets, trying to get out of the rain as soon as somehow possible. Static electricity crackled along his body. First his skin only, but later also along his arms, legs and torso once his suit was soaked enough. He frickin'  _hated_ water. 

Not so much a short and delightful hot shower- no, those he  _loved_ , even after he got his powers; but this endless soaking in icy rain was its very own circle of Hell.

The rain turned more merciless, more icy, and Cole's mind was consumed with the feeling of pain. The cold water drenched him to the bone, and the lightning arching around him was no longer tickling like it usually did in the shower. No, this time it bit into his skin, tearing and itching and clawing at his flesh. Cole swore some more and sped up, trying to escape the weather when the hospital came to view. Like a meteor made of sparks, he rushed into the Bayview's lobby, kicking off the excess water with poorly contained swears. It wasn't  _that_ late yet, maybe ten, so it was no wonder there were still a lot of people around. They stared at him, some in surprise, others in confusion. Cole didn't feel like talking to them. He nodded at the woman manning the reception desk (it wasn't Dana, and he was glad for it because he didn't want to talk to anyone) and marched towards the stairs, wet shoes making squishing noises as he went. He winced from the sound and the sharp bite every step caused in his toes. He was out of the rain, so his own powers didn't work that worse against him anymore, but it was still uncomfortable.

Cole dragged himself up the stairs without any strength. After the rain, he didn't have any energy left. All that rage that had been in him had gone away, leaving a weary emptiness in its place. He was  _tired_ . So goddamn tired. Tired of being constantly shot at. Tired of being assaulted. Tired of killing. Tired of being one of two that actually had the strength to do something. Cole didn't want to be the one everything depended on, but he also knew he couldn't just quit. Not anymore.

_Gah!_ Cole grumbled under his breath as he finally reached the level his room was on. He glared at the doors as he passed them, trying to figure out  _where_ exactly he was supposed to sleep. He was so tired and his head hurt and he was still  _wet_ , so he just threw up his arms mentally and walked right through the first door that appeared on his right.

It was a small room, that didn't smell of antiseptics as much as the others did. And it was empty. Cole kicked off his soaked sneakers, he peeled away his sopping wet clothes to simply drop them on the floor, and then collapsed into bed in just his underwear. Didn't even bother tucking himself in. The second his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light.

* * *

 

The sun was shining through the window. Cole groaned and twisted his head away. He must have slept hours in one go, and still felt like he went three rounds against Mercer. Every inch of his body hurt. His mind was strangely empty, though the rage from yesterday was still there, still simmering beneath the surface. But at least he didn't feel as murderous anymore. Still, he was pretty pissed. Plus, judging from the way the sun stood in the sky, it looked like it was afternoon already.

“God mother-fu-”

“Okay. Stop it right there, MacGrath, or I _will_ wash your mouth with soap.”

Cole blinked, wide-awake, staring at the shape of Trish in the door. She had her hands propped against her hips and had a half-hearted scowl on her face.

“Trish?”

“In the flesh”

“What-are you doing here?” _Stupid question to ask. This is the hospital. She works here._

“Well, firstly, I am _supposed_ to be here, and secondly, you decided that _my_ room was the perfect place to crash.” 

“Your room?” Cole blinked, before leaning back with a groan. “Hell”

“Imagine my surprise when I discovered you.” The nurse kept her glare for a short while longer, before she huffed out and walked over to him, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “I found the water trail you left. And then I saw you, passed out. What happened?”

Cole sighed, feeling oddly relieved to talk to Trish. She did have this effect on him. He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position to speak.

“Harms asked for help. Yesterday”, he started. “So Mercer and I went down to the Dustmen's main hideout.”

Trish winced, though Cole wasn't too sure whether it was because of him blatantly risking his life or the virally altered supermutant. But she didn't say anything and let him continue. “The two of us- shit, we were unstoppable. We made it to Alden Tate, the Dustmen's leader. And we frickin' took him down.”

He exhaled with a low snort. “Harms took him in, and I told Moya to get him away from the Warren.”

“Moya...” Trish frowned, “That DARPA bitch?”

Cole slumped with a groan. “I know. But she was really the only choice. You know, Alden could not stay here in Empire.” He exhaled. “So it was either have Moya extract him, or let Mercer kill him. And...” He trailed off. “I decided for Moya.”

“Oh”, Trish furrowed her brows. “It was a mistake, wasn't it?”

“I massive one”, Cole slumped. “We _knew_ the Dustmen were going to try to get Alden back. So Harms, Zeke, the cops, Mercer and I- we fought them. We held them off...but then these bastards came from the steam tunnels.” He paused, glancing at Trish. “Zeke thought he could fight these idiots out in the courtyard with us. Thought he'd get a bit of the glory- but instead he should have stayed inside, made sure Alden remained where he was.”

Cole frowned darkly. “Because he tried to play hero, he neglected his position- and every cop in that room got slaughtered. And Alden's free again.”

Unexpectedly, Trish reached over and wrapped her arms around his shoulder. Cole froze, not entirely sure what she was doing. “Silly man”, she mumbled against his neck. “Silly, silly man. Don't you see? Zeke wouldn't have made a difference. On the contrary. If he'd stayed, then he'd be dead now too.”

Cole exhaled coldly, draping his arms around his girlfriend. “I know”, he admitted silently. “I know. Zeke's not really useful in a battle. Especially not against the Dustmen...but”

“You were angry Alden escaped”, Trish muttered. “I understand. And Zeke understands too, you know. When you get angry, you aren't yourself anymore.”

“I know”, Cole repeated slowly. “And ever since I got my powers...It's harder to keep in control when I'm pissed off.” He glanced at her. “The rainstorm yesterday- I think that was actually _me_.”

Trish blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. You know, when I tried to get over the Fremont Bridge, I was scared. And then the lightning started. That was me. Or my powers, anyways.”

“We already talked about this”, Trish reminded him. “You had no control over them.”

“I know. A few days ago, when I met Mercer the first time, he tried to strangle me.”

“What a nice fellow”, the nurse snorted.

“Yeah. But back then, I managed to replicate that thunder storm again. Was pretty useful getting him to back off, but that guy's tougher than the Fremont Bridge.” He frowned, blinking as her hair got into his eyes. “I tried it again, yesterday. I didn't manage to get that thing back.” He scoffed. “Would have been _really_ helpful. And then I was so pissed off at anything, the rain set in.”

Trish chuckled. “Maybe that's  _someone's_ way of saying to cool off.”

Cole glared at her offended. After all, the rain was damn  _uncomfortable_ . Eventually, he gave it up, and glanced around the room- Trish's room. “Where is my stuff?” He asked, “I kind of just dropped it before I fell asleep.”

“I know”, his girlfriend pointed out. “I picked them up and ran them through the washing machine.” She handed him his neatly folded pile of laundry. Cole took them with a smile. _Count on Trish to brighten the day._

A shadow fell on them, followed by the sharp rapping of knuckles against glass. Trish's head snapped up and her eyes widened. As she tried to duck behind Cole, the courier had turned around, only to see Mercer clinging to the window soffit with one hand, the other hanging limply behind his body. His dark hood was over his head, shadowing his face, but his eyes were still glowing unnaturally.

Cole sighed and got up, opening the window. He was fully aware of Trish's sharp intake of breath. He couldn't blame her for being scared of Mercer. Hell,  _he_ was still scared. Especially after yesterday night.

But, unlike Trish, Cole could see the advantages of working with the mutant. He was strong, fast, intelligent and able to crack every security that existed. He was also a great meat shield. Just a shame he was such a pain in the ass.

“What do you want?”

Mercer cocked his head, regarding the courier, before his free hand came into view. He held a Blast Shard in his blackened, necrotic fingers. Cole took it from him with a surprised gasp, watched how the affected limbs crumbled to dust before being replaced by new ones. The shard shuddered once and its glow stopped, being absorbed into his body. “Uh...” he began lamely, “Thanks?”

“I got more of them on the roof”, Mercer claimed. “Get dressed.” He glanced at Trish. “You might want to come too, there's something I want to tell you.” He vanished out of view laughably easy, by simply jumping upwards. Cole glanced at his girlfriend. Trish grimaced. “Better not let him waiting, huh?”

* * *

 

When Cole and Trish emerged from the rooftop exit, they were surprised to see Dana already present. The blonde turned to them with a forced smile. There was no question she learnt from her brother about what happened the night before, yet she still tried to ease the mood.

Cole nodded at her, before he turned his attention to the collection of Blast Shards on the roof. He paused, eyes widening. Shit, there must have been at least a hundred here! Did Mercer really gather them all just for him? He could remember he didn't like them very much.

But they were giving off radiation...Cole glanced at the terrorist. “Is it okay?” He asked, “These things aren't exactly safe.”

Mercer shrugged. “As far I figured, the radiation is only problematic when being nearby or actually  _touching_ the shards. Plus- the hospital had been built with a metal mesh in its walls, to keep a little radiation away.”

“Excuse me?” Trish cut in. “ _Radiation_? And you let Cole touch this thing?”

Cole blinked in surprise when he noticed the heated glare his girlfriend was sending into Mercer's direction. A moment ago, she was afraid of the living viral weapon, but now? He decided to intervene. “It's okay, Trish”, he told her, “It doesn't harm me. The opposite is true, actually. I only become stronger.”

“The shards have been irradiated through the Blast that gave MacGrath his powers”, Mercer added. “He can still continue to drain them.” He paused, frowning. “Which is better than letting them lie around for other people to find.”

“The plague”, Trish noticed, “It is... _radiation sickness_?”

“Yes and no”, Mercer explained. “The reason all those people died- it was the radiation from the Blast itself, and those shards. However, the plague you and Dana encountered, this was poisoning induced by the Reaper's Black Tar.”

“Iodine”, Dana piped up. “Iodine should help this, wouldn't it?”

“Possibly”, Mercer admitted, “Though this type of sickness is going _too_ fast. Within a week at most, the victims are dead. Most die faster.” He shrugged, not really caring. “The supplies are dwindling too fast, Dana. I don't know what purpose it would have to waste resources on people that are dying anyways.”

Cole winced at his harsh words, but Dana already beat him to the punch. She walked right up to her brother and smacked him into the chest once. “Alex!” She snapped harshly, and Cole noticed the genetically altered superweapon actually  _flinch back_ slightly, “It is not nice talking about other people like that!”

“It's just logical”, Mercer tried to argue. “Most of these guys are already dead when they first notice the symptoms. Why waste effort on them when they can't be saved anyways?”

Dana huffed out and turned to Trish, who followed the encounter in bewilderment. “See what I'm dealing with? It's  _impossible_ to teach him manners!”

Cole snorted, then tried to cover it up with a fake cough. Everybody turned their attention to him. He gestured with his hand. “So...” He began, “I'll just go ahead and make these things safe?”

He turned without waiting for their response, and focused on the shards, lightning arching away from him. It wasn't much different from draining a source of electricity, he remembered.

The shards' glow increased in their intensity, before they abruptly turned dark. Cole stumbled back with a grunt, feeling something hot burn through his body. It was similar to the transformers in the sewers, but a lot slower. Because of this, it wasn't too painful either, but it was still extremely uncomfortable. Lightning lashed out of his skin, and the pain instantly skyrocketed. Cole jerked back, electricity crackling along his body, singing his clothes and flesh.  _Okay. Ouch._

Someone shrieked his name- Trish, maybe- but the sound of her voice was drowned out by the loud roar of thunder. Cole saw something move, but couldn't really pay any attention because his own body was seriously trying to fry itself. He felt like he was on fire, and the scent of burnt skin reached his nose. He grunted through his clenched teeth, hoping the effect was going to fade soon.

Then, like a rubber band, the tenseness in his body snapped and he dropped bonelessly to the floor, groaning in pain. He stayed like this for a moment, willing his brain to clear. Panting, he twisted his head to find his friends, only to find something that looked like a massive black shell near the roof exit.

“Guys?” He moaned. “Guys? I think it's over”

The shell moved, shifting to the side before it melted away. Cole blinked when he recognized Trish and Dana, both wrapped up in several tentacles and Mercer's arms. He slowly let them go and stepped back, so Trish could rush over to her boyfriend with a worried expression. “Cole? Holy shit, Cole! Are you okay?”

“Guess so”, the courier groaned painfully. “Don't let me do this again.”

He struggled back to his feet, leaning heavily on Trish's shoulder. Mercer approached them, head tilted to the side. “Got anything new out of it?”

“Don't know” Cole focused on his hand, lightning arching between his fingers. “I do feel...weird, though.” He flexed his wrist, then threw his arm out. A massive lightning bolt shot into the rooftop across from them, rendering the AC unit there to a wreck. Cole flinched back in surprise. “Holy shit”, he gasped. “Did you see that?!”

“Interesting”, Mercer mentioned, “It looks like your powers increased in their strength and efficiency.”

“Awesome”, Dana threw in slightly breathlessly, “Awesome to the Max.”

Cole agreed with the younger sibling. This  _was_ pretty impressive. And hopefully, it would be enough to take down Alden. Speaking of Alden...Cole glanced at Mercer. “The North Section of the Warren is still without power”, he mentioned, “And to take on that old fart, I would need the electricity back online. Do you maybe know where the substation is?”

Mercer furrowed his brows slightly, then closed his eyes and inhaled once. “Yeah”, he mentioned a moment later. “I do know where it is. And also where the entrance is. I can take you there.”

“Sweet”, Cole was about to head over, when he felt a hand at his arm. Trish frowned at him.

“Cole- please be careful, okay?”

The courier smiled and turned around to embrace her. “I'm always careful. I'll be back tonight.”

Trish nodded and pulled back, though Cole could see the conflict on her expression. “Just- just don't get harmed. I would like to speak to you tonight.”

Mercer tilted his head with an unreadable expression, then he turned to his sister. “Dana. Make sure Trish stays safe, will you? If anything only  _looks_ out of the ordinary, contact me or MacGrath immediately, okay?”

Dana blinked. “Ooookay...Will do that.”

Cole furrowed his brows at the exchange, but decided to let it slip for now. It looked like he and Trish were on a similar level as Dana was to Mercer and he was worried for them. It was a good thing to have him as a guard, too. Mercer nodded at the courier. "Come. Let's go."

Both men leapt off the hospital building and soared easily through the air, leaving the building behind.

* * *

 

They reached the manhole cover easy enough. The battle at the Eagle Point Penitentiary hadn't had the wished effect of Alden being taken out of the Warren, but at least they did manage to decrease the number of Dustmen in total. Plus, with both of them rushing along the roofs, not many dared to stand in their way. And Mercer also did slow down a lot, allowing Cole to keep up with him. When they crossed into the powerless area, the courier grit his teeth, though this time his headache was considerably less prominent. The world wasn't as blurry as it normally was, and his body wasn't that desperate for juice anymore. Those Blast Shards really improved his powers.  _Awesome._

He leaned down and pried the cover off, when he remembered something. He glanced at Mercer. “You still have my phone”, he pointed out.

Mercer blinked, understanding slowly dawning on his face. “Right”, he muttered. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and handed it over, Cole sighing in relief when he fastened it to his bag strap.

“Did anything happen yesterday?” He asked then.

Mercer shrugged. “I called Moya. Threatened her”, he explained with a deadpan voice.

Cole felt all color drain from his face. “What? You  _threatened_ Moya?!”

“I'm sick of playing along”, the terrorist growled. “I am no longer going to hide from her. I told her if she tried anything, I _will_ release everything I have into the internet _and_ the news companies.” He shook his head in disgust. “I have been on the run for three years. But I'm tired of it. If she wants a piece of me, she's going to bite off more than she can chew. I _will_ outlast her. I always do.”

Cole groaned. “Holy shit”, he grunted, “I do hope she plays along. Because I don't really want to see another war breaking out here.”

“Oh, she will”, Mercer snarled. “Because I didn't give her a choice. As high and mighty as she acts, she is a coward. And cowards hate the light.” He peeled his lips away in a scary grin. “Plus, I want to keep her on the edge. She's going to make a mistake sooner or later. And once she does- I'll be there.”

_To eat her_ . Cole shuddered involuntarily at the idea. Yes, Moya  _was_ a bitch. Yes, she did deserve any sort of insurgency against her authority- but  _killing_ her was a tad too much. And it wasn't just killing Moya- it was damning her to the most violent death Cole had ever seen. Screaming, thrashing, fighting back against a thing that was  _made_ for killing people, without any hopes of breaking free. He felt very, very queasy.

He didn't think Mercer could read minds, but the terrorist suddenly stepped back, withdrew his personal shadow from Cole, allowing him to breathe again.

“I'm leaving this to you”, he muttered, turning away. “Don't like sewers too much. Just call, if you need anything.” He walked off.

Cole blinked. Looks like there were still some things he didn't know about Mercer. But then again, he  _did_ live together with his sister, so it was plausible to assume he could guess what emotions and thoughts humans had in certain situations, and what the best remedy was.

At any rate, the queasy feeling was letting up slightly, allowing him to pull himself back together. He inhaled shakily, and proceeded with slipping into the sewers beneath.

Okay, that was a mistake. The stench of the sewage and his own memories of Mercer consuming that Dustman in combination played Hell on his stomach. He retched once, forcing himself to breathe through clenched teeth to calm down again. Holy shit, he was just glad he hadn't eaten anything in the past two days. But maybe he should have, not because he was particularly hungry, but because it would have settled his stomach a little.

“Ah yeah”, he muttered sarcastically between a few sharp pants, “That's the smell I know and love.” He gagged again, forcing the bile in his throat back, before he tried to move away from the maintenance grate. He'd better hurry up, get the transformer back online, get a shiny new power from it and get the Hell out of here.

He grit his teeth with determination, and started moving, jumping off the platform to latch against a set of pipes. He steadied himself there for a moment, then continued: just jumping and latching, and hoping he wouldn't slip and fall into the sludge beneath. He was just glad for his thrusters to carry him across the larger gaps, so he was spared having to look for another way. He did find a maintenance tunnel, with the transformer glowing just across another gap behind it. Cole scrambled into the tunnel, and easily hopped off the grate at the other end to reach the transformer. He hopped up and closed the circuit, grunting when the charge slamming through him burnt away the nausea.

After a while, he dropped back to the floor in a crouch, every inch of his body buzzing with electricity. He slowly rose to his feet, feeling the charge tickle in his fingers. He wondered what this was about and lifted his hand. He twisted his fingers a little bit, trying to get a feeling for when the tickling was the strongest. He held a fist to the front, frowning as the discharge increased in intensity. Cole cocked his head, then slowly uncurled his fingers, holding his flat palm away from him.

The electricity arched upwards and away from his fingers, forming an oval, translucent shield in front of him. Cole's eyebrows shot upwards as he gently moved the shield, pulled it closer to his body, then turned it. After a moment, he closed his fist and the shield snuffed out.

The courier grinned. “Oh Hell yes.” He had no idea whether this shield of his could really stop bullets, or whether it was just a glorified umbrella, but shit if it wasn't any sort of improvement towards diving face-first into a hail of bullets.

He continued to move, finding a quick possibility to test his shield in the shape of three Dustmen shooting at him. The shield easily swallowed the bullets, letting them hang suspended in front of Cole's face.

_Yesssssss_

One problem down. Cole hurried through the sewer, creating his shield whenever necessary. He leaned a bit from behind his cover, then fired a lightning bolt with his free hand at the Dustmen shooting him. He was also pleasantly surprised when he realized that, whenever a bullet hit his shield, he actually felt more energetic than before. Like the shield was converting the bullet's kinetic energy into electric energy for him to consume.  _Best. Ability. Ever._

Not even a turret could stop him now. Cole easily made his way along, zapping and killing every single Dustman he saw. The rage from the loss at the Eagle Point Penitentiary was still there, and now it found a new outlet in these brain-dead idiots.

His shield did find its match in the RPG missiles, but Cole was still proud of his newest ability. He made his way deeper into the complex, while frying those annoying Dustmen with  _glee._ In the end, he did finally discover the substation, took out the single bastard guarding it, and switched it back on. He headed back to the surface.

* * *

 

Alex was moving across the city's rooftops. He had swung back to the hospital, to check up with Dana, before he left again. He had found Dunbar there, sitting on a chair and looking like someone had forced him to kick a whole litter of puppies. But Alex didn't have anything to say to him, so he just nodded into his direction and left again. Now he was hunting for Dustmen. The shards did a number on his Biomass, and he did have to restock already several times when he collected them. The radiation simply killed his body too fast, and now he was still desperately hungry.  _Maybe I should try to get my hands on water bears, add their genetic code to mine and become as indestructible as they are_ , he thought with a snort.

The Runner stopped at the roof of a building, glancing down. He found three Dustmen standing in a corner, talking to each other with vivid hand gestures. He looked around to search for any witnesses. Finding none, he allowed himself to grin. These three idiots down there were exactly what his starving body required. He lunged.

As their memories settled into his brain, Alex ceased all movement. The Dustmen- they hadn't been here by chance.

No, they had been  _hunting_ someone. Those braindead idiots didn't know the full story, but apparently, Alden wanted to get that guy. Alex furrowed his brows, checking the memories a bit more. The Dustmen didn't know the man's name, but they had assaulted him once and found a strange sphere on him. The Runner's head snapped up. The Ray Sphere. The man did have the Ray Sphere with him after the Blast. And the Dustmen now probably had it. But one Sphere wasn't enough. Alden wanted to have more of them. So he send his soldiers to find the man again- and get him to him.

Alex was moving, pouncing back to the roof to find the man. Everything seemed clear now. This was the guy that left the Dead Drops. This was the guy MacGrath was supposed to find for Moya.

_John White_

The Runner lunged across the roofs, sharp eyes scanning every single person down on the street. Ever since they started taking back the Warren, there were more down there. Most of them were trying to clean up, and some were trying to force the Dustmen back.

He stopped when he noticed the one person ducking away and purposefully marching down the street. John White.

Alex followed after him, noticing the group of Dustmen doing the same. Not on his watch.

Another group came from the front, cutting off John's way. The man instantly turned and tried to head into an alley, then started running and quickly latched onto a fire escape to scramble upwards. The Dustmen tried to follow. Alex was faster.

In a blur of black leather, he shot off his perch and into the group of transients, utterly decimating them. He heard a startled gasp from above, and his eyes locked with John's. The agent then suddenly flicked a switch in his head, pulled out a gun and fired at Alex a few times, targeting not his chest, but rather his  _face_ . Alex swore and stumbled back, forced to wait until his eyes had regenerated. By then, John was gone.

The Runner huffed out and inhaled the air, easily picking up the man's scent. He wouldn't escape.

He smirked and easily stepped against the wall, casually jogging up the wall just in time to see White's coat vanish behind the corner of a roof exit the next roof over. Oh well, if he wanted it that way...

Alex started to follow after the man.

 


	22. The Ray Sphere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, onwards to Alden's tower. Nothing can go wrong here, right?

**The Ray Sphere**

 

Alex was following after John White. He made sure he got off the roof when White did, and he made sure to change his disguise whenever there was a chance. He did notice the man was aware he was being followed, though he seemingly kept looking for the Dustmen.

Eventually, White ducked into an alley and pulled out his phone. Alex quickly left the street and hurried to the top of the roof above him, intending to listen.

White glanced at his phone, before he entered a number. MacGrath's number, surprisingly. _How did he get this number?_

“ _Who's that?”_ , MacGrath asked disbelievingly.

“Cole”, White began, “My name is John White. We need to talk.”

There was a surprised silence from the other end. _“John?”_ Another pause and the sharp intake of breath. _“Where are you?”_

“Meet me at the roof of the Adams Building”, John instructed. “And come alone.” He quickly cut the connection and started moving. Alex frowned and carefully headed after him. He couldn't just walk up to him- the man had been undercover for quite some time. If he approached him, he would flee.

On the other tentacle...he could always catch him. That wasn't any problem, but then the guy probably clammed up. Well, if bad came to worst, he could always consume him, but at the moment, he baulked at that idea. John White had done nothing to deserve this. And this protected him from Alex for the moment. He never enjoyed consuming informants who never had done anything to him. He eased out of the form he'd taken and settled back into his normal shape, not needing it any more. He could be quite stealthy himself if he wanted to, anyways.

The Adams Building wasn't more than a two-story ferry building, now empty and desolate. Alex remembered it from a few days back, when MacGrath and him destroyed the Dustmen's boats. White headed around the back, where the fire escape and entrance to the roof was. Alex followed after him, always staying in the blind angle. He didn't need to _see_ White to know his exact position, after all.

As the man hurried to climb the stairs, Alex was simply content with waiting just next to it, in a way he could not be possibly be seen from atop. And- he thought with a smirk- to cut off the man's escape route should he try to run.

* * *

 

Cole couldn't believe it. John White. _The_ John White he'd been looking for for five days already. He had assumed it would be harder to find him in a city of nearly ten million people. He would never have believed the guy would simply _call_ him out of the blue. The first question that came to mind was where he had his number from. The second question was how he even _knew_ his name.

But he could ask him that later on. _If_ that wasn't a trap.

Adams Building, huh? That was one of the ferry stations of Empire. Now there wasn't a boat left, and nobody bothered sticking around. A perfect place for a secret discussion. He rushed along the street, hoping to arrive there before anybody else would find John.

He easily found and scaled the building, stopping when a dark-skinned man in front of him whirled around, grit his teeth and drew his gun to aim it at him. Cole immediately recognized him. “John”, He said, “It's me. You called me.”

The man relaxed immediately and put the gun back. “Cole MacGrath”, he greeted. “Sorry, just being a bit...jumpy.”

“Understandable.” Cole crossed his arms. “Okay, what do you-?!” He was suddenly cut off by the roar of a helicopter. Guys must have come from downwind, so they hadn't noticed them before. White jerked back with a swear.

“ _John White”_ , the pilot started, _“We're here to extract you. Please maintain your current position.”_ Sure, make it even _louder_ , not sure the Neon heard you yet.

“You brought a chopper?!” John shouted at him, “I told you to come alone!”

“They're not with me!” Cole snapped, “I don't know who they are!”

“Damnit!” White swore and rushed off the roof. “Damnit!”

“ _John. No need to run. We're here to help you.”_

“Shit, that ain't any of mine!” John barked.

“First Sons.” Both men froze at the low gravely voice. The roof shook when Mercer suddenly appeared in front of them. He glared for a moment at the helicopter, before his pale blue eyes locked with Cole's. “Make sure he doesn't run off. I got this.”

“ _Mercer_?! Where the Hell are you coming from?” Cole demanded to know, but the terrorist didn't answer. Instead, he shot straight off the roof and collided with the vehicle at full speed. The helicopter rolled to the side from the impact, black smoke coming from its engine, but it wasn't enough. The viral terrorist burst through the air again and kicked it violently to send it careening through the sky. As it impacted into the harbor basin, the pressure ignited the gas and it blew the chopper up.

Mercer dropped back to the roof with a heavy thud, looking completely unfazed. “Now we can talk.”

“Like Hell!” John burst out, gun snapping up to shoot at Mercer. He simply took the bullets like it was rain as he approached him until the gun clicked empty. Cole groaned out in defeat and stepped between them to halt any further confrontation. “Okay”, he growled, “That's enough.”

“Enough?!” White snapped, “Do you know what this thing is?!”

“I know who he is”, Cole replied sternly. “And I know he's on my side.”

The agent stared at him. “You're kidding.”

“He's not”, Mercer cut in. “As much I would love to waste even more time, I'm sure all of us want to get over this as soon as possible before more of these fucks appear.”

“He's right”, Cole agreed. “You can trust us. If not him, trust me, at least.”

The man stared at the two of them, a wide range of emotions rushing over his face, until his shoulders slumped. “Ah shit”, he groaned.

“You wanted to talk to me”, Cole reminded him. “Well, here I am.”

John sighed. “I am aware”, he grunted. He glanced at Mercer, then turned his attention to Cole again. “And, asides from the company you're keeping, I've watched you, Cole. I've seen you do good. So yeah. I'm going to give you everything you want.” He paused, frowning. “I know you two are _not_ with the agency. Too undisciplined, too cocky.” He glanced at Mercer. “Too... Mercer.”

“And?”

“I know you want the same thing as I do”, John continued. “The Ray Sphere. You are going to help me get it.”

Cole furrowed his brows. “Besides from the whole 'You will help me because I say so' thing, does that mean you know where it's at?”

John nodded. “One of my UAVs spotted it on top of Alden's Tower. You'll need help retrieving it, so get someone you can trust. Someone who is not going to be busy with taking down the opposition.”

Cole cleared his throat. “I know I'm going to regret it- but what do you want me to tell Moya?”

John blinked. “Who?”

“Moya?” Cole frowned. “Your wife?”

“I have never been married”, John countered.

Mercer snorted. “Seeing as that bitch had lied to you the entire time, I think it's hardly surprising she lied to you about this too.”

“Bitch”, Cole snarled. In retrospect, he should have _really_ been expecting it. He wasn't that dumb, after all. But maybe there's been a part in him that believed this woman had been just desperate to see her husband again. Now he finally realized that she was desperate- for control. He snorted. “So I guess you aren't FBI either, right?”

John shook his head. “God, I hate those bastards. No, I'm with the NSA.”

“Another part of the governmental alphabet soup”, Mercer grunted.

John glared at him, then threw his arms up. “You don't like us, huh? Well, deal with it. I'm your ally here.”

“So Alden's Tower”, Cole summarized to cut them off and get the information he desperately wanted to have.

John nodded. “Nearly at the top. Your job is to get there and get it out, though there are going to be a lot of people trying to stop you.” He eyed them. “Also, you won't see me, but I can tell when the Sphere's in your possession. After that, we can figure out how to destroy it.” He glanced around nervously. “Now I'll better get moving”, he mentioned. “And hide in case this 'Moya' woman comes looking for me. She sounds like trouble, seriously.” He paused, turning his attention at Mercer. “And I don't really fancy being stuck around ZEUS. Tamed or not, that thing's a killer machine.”

“If you guys hadn't fucked up Hope, I wouldn't be here today”, Mercer grated back.

John bristled for a moment, then his shoulders slumped. “Yeah. I think I get what you're coming from. Genetically engineered viruses solely for warfare. Someone'd been seriously sick in the head.” He heaved a sigh, then turned and headed down the fire escape. “I'll contact you, MacGrath.”

He vanished, leaving the two of them alone. Mercer grunted. “We know where the Ray Sphere is now. I say let's try to get it before Alden changes its location.”

Cole nodded, then headed around and hopped off the roof, closely followed by Mercer. They jogged across the street to scale the apartment building at the other side, just to be off the street and quicker in their movement.

“So”, the courier began, “What's the deal with this 'Zeus' crap? Moya called you that, and now John.”

“It's the name Blackwatch gave me”, Mercer replied. “My code name. My designation.”

“Really?” Cole pouted. “Damn. And I get 'The Electric Man'.” He easily vaulted over an AC unit. “Why 'Zeus', though?”

“The King of Gods”, Mercer replied in a deadpan tone. “Really a _brilliant_ choice for something made by fucked-up humans, I know, but someone at Gentek and/or Blackwatch apparently thought it'll be a good idea to go for that mythological crap, real bunch of idiots there.” He easily sprinted up the flat side of a building, with Cole following after him just three seconds later.

“I don't know man, but Zeus always means to me lightning bolts- and that is _my_ job- and screwing everything over because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants. Or dress, or whatever Greek people wore.”

“Hah”, Mercer actually sounded amused. “I told you, I _can't_ generate electricity to way you do, so no lightning bolts for me. Besides, I don't even understand the process how you do it, since air's one of the worst conductors that exist- you shouldn't even be _able_ to throw lightning bolts.” He snorted. “And the other thing- I am a _virus_. I don't have an actual gender. I just happen to look male because I took a man's body as blueprint. That's it.” He shook his head amused. “Maybe they were looking for an easy thing to shout when I tore them to shreds.”

Cole paled again, thinking of all the guys who just did their job who ended their lives much too early at Mercer's claws. The Reapers were different- killing them was actually the nicest thing to do to them, to free them from that mental prison Sasha put them in, while the Dustmen deserved it for their sick way of throwing away a human's life so eagerly at the order of Alden. But the soldiers in Manhattan- they were probably only at the wrong place at the wrong time.

However, that was in the past now. Like Zeke would say 'It's no use crying over spilt milk, Cole.' The courier stopped abruptly, his feet sliding across the ground for a moment until he found purchase. Zeke!

“Shit. Zeke!” He gasped. Mercer glanced at him in confusion. “What about him?”

“John said to get someone on it too.”

The terrorist frowned. “What? You want Dunbar with us on this thing? It's going to be dangerous.”

“I know”, Cole admitted, “So it's going to be our job to take all the heat for it.”

“And Dunbar?”

“Zeke's going to make a run for the Ray Sphere as long we distract Alden and his goons.” Cole sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I feel bad about the thing at the prison. Zeke doesn't have powers, we do. He just wants to belong. So I want to give him something to do, something he can feel proud about without being in danger.”

Mercer's frown deepened. “I don't really like this idea”, he admitted. “I know I would never endanger Dana that way...”

“I know Zeke can do it”, Cole grinned. He really did. He didn't want to exclude Zeke from his life, because he'd seen him try so hard to be like him. He was his best friend, they've been together since the Dunbar family moved in as their neighbors when he was eight years old. Much what they did- from dropping college over going to New Marais and learning Parkour, to settling in Empire- they did together.

Mercer huffed out and shrugged, while Cole grabbed his phone.

“Zeke, you there?” He tried to sound as soothing and understanding as possible, and it was not a tone he often used with _Zeke_.

“ _Hey”_ Oh shit. Zeke's crestfallen tone was definitely _not_ what Cole wanted to hear. Zeke was _Zeke_ , damnit. And Zeke _never_ sounded like someone forced him to kick a whole litter of puppies.

“Listen”, Cole continued, “I really need your help with something.” _Would brighten your mood, hopefully._

“ _That a fact?”_ , Zeke quickly shifted to a biting and accusing tone. _“You made it sound like I wasn't worth a damn.”_

Cole sighed. “Look. We can't talk this over the phone. Just meet me over by the big tower the transients are building and I'll fill you in.” He cocked his head. “Cool?”

Zeke sighed. _“Sure man. See ya there.”_

Cole ended the call and simply leapt off the roof they stopped on, landing on a the next wire to grind along it. Mercer followed after him, easily crossing the distance to the next roof in a single bound. The sun was sitting very low in the sky by now, casting long shadows across the streets.

Mercer cleared his throat. “It would be better if we approach the tower from the north, from that entrance Harms and his men blasted when they went in to grab Alden yesterday”, he mentioned. “I also kind of threatened Alden.”

Cole groaned. “Can you ever _not_ threaten people, please?”

“I could, but then Alden and his fucks would be dead already. And I am pretty sure you'd want a piece of them too. So I was content with death threats as opposed to killing them immediately and leaving nothing.”

That was actually quite thoughtful of him, he figured, because he really wanted to hit Alden where it hurt most.

The two of them reached the base of Alden's Tower without any troubles- which did worry both of them. No opposition either meant they were walking into an ambush- or that the Dustmen went into hiding. Cole kept an eye out for Zeke, while Mercer kept watching the area around them. They were near where they fought that golem the night before, and Cole felt his blood fade from his face at the sight of the stain on the floor- exactly where Mercer devoured that Dustman. He shook his head, trying to clear it from the images. There were more pressing matters now.

There were hurried footsteps, and he turned to witness Zeke rushing towards them.

Cole tried to smile a little, though his face wasn't exactly _made_ for smiling. “Was a little worried you weren't going to show”, he greeted his friend.

Zeke tilted his head, glancing at him over his glasses. “So, what's going on?”

“The Ray Sphere”, Cole explained. “It's at the top of this tower. I wanted you to grab it, while Mercer and I distract the trash-baggers. You're skilled with tech of all kind, and if they're storing it in some unit, you're the one most likely to get it out. Once we have it, we get the Hell out of there. You in?”

“Up there?” Zeke squinted at the giant construct made of trash metal, old cranes and sign posts. “Hell yeah. I'm in.” He frowned. “Uh. How exactly am _I_ supposed to get up there? I can't climb the way you do, and I can't fall off without splatterin' all over the ground.”

“There are two ways to go about this”, Mercer pointed out. “Either, you ride the elevator we call up at specific points, so we take the more scenic route with more victims- or...” He lifted one arm, jabbing his thumb towards his back. “You hold on to me and we climb this sucker just like that. Would be faster and we'd have to murder a little less Dustmen.”

Zeke blinked in bewilderment. “Uh- Now that sounds like a good idea, but are you sure you can actually go through with it?” He glanced at his stomach. “I'm not exactly a bikini model, you know?”

Cole snickered, while Mercer rolled his eyes. “Dunbar”, he ground out. “I can- and actually _have_ at one point- grab an A1 Abrams Tank right _off_ the street- while it is firing at me- carry it on top of the Empire State Building and then _throw_ it at an Apache trying to take me down. I sure as Hell can carry an obese human.”

“You're not going to let me drop?”

“Not unless you give a _solid_ reason to.”

Zeke threw Cole a look. The courier inclined his head. “If you don't want to, we'll go slower and use the elevators.”

His friend shook his head and turned to Mercer. “Nah. I'm going to take you up on that offer.” He paused with a frown. “Uh...please don't let me drop. I don't look so good as a corpse.”

Cole chuckled at his friend's doubts, but he knew fully well that he was probably at the most secure place now. Zeke swallowed and slowly approached the terrorist, before carefully wrapping his arms around his neck. Mercer replied with a grunt, and leathery tentacles snapped from his back, securing Zeke there.

Then he casually stepped towards the trash metal wall and dug his fingers into the metal, easily pulling himself upwards. Cole snickered and quickly latched onto a series of pipes. Though he wasn't going to waste time, he wasn't going to let Mercer be faster than him. So he looked for another route, one more in touch with his parkouring abilities.

They easily reached the first walkway a story above the ground, and Cole took out the few Dustmen lurking there before they could even react.

“Hey?” Zeke asked, sounding slightly disturbed from the tentacles holding him, “How did you find the Ray Sphere anyways?”

“We ran into John”, Cole supplied, “He told us it's up here.”

“John? You mean Moya's husband?”

Mercer barked a laughter. “Sure. Husband. No. That bitch was lying. He never heard of her.”

Zeke puffed out the best he could. “Damnit Cole! I told you not to trust the feds!” His voice took a more cautious tone. “You ain't still thinkin' about handin' the Ray Sphere over?”

“No. We are going to destroy it”, the courier replied, “We smash it with whatever it takes, make sure _nobody_ can use it.”

“Might be better”, Zeke admitted, “Who knows what the guy wants to do. I'm bettin' on sellin' it to make some serious cashola.”

Mercer grunted once to signal he was going to continue climbing. Cole stayed nearby, using the several sign posts and neon signs to pull himself up.

“You know”, he muttered after a moment. “I wish this never happened to me. He paused, glaring at nothing in particular. “I'm still an errand boy. Same as before. Going where people tell me to go, when they tell me. Nothing's ever going to change.”

“I doubt it”, Mercer cut in. “You have powers now. I don't tell you to take it out on these bastards, but you have to pick your battles. You need to know _when_ it is right to do what others tell you, and when it is better to do your own shit.” He grunted, easily punching a hole into the wall. “And besides- without _you_ , these fucks won't have any chance at getting _anything_ done, correct? Don't see this as them ordering you around. Think more of it as them _begging_ you to save them.” He grinned a little. “And if you don't feel like it, just tell them 'no'. They won't be able to do anything.”

Cole paused, glancing at the terrorist. He was right. Without _him_ , Empire would be in ruins by now. He didn't see it from that angle, and anyways, deep down he knew he did what he did not for Moya or John- he did what he did for _himself_ . _He_ was the one in charge. Not they.

It lifted his mood somewhat.

He heard Zeke give a gasp at the sight of the city vanishing beneath them when they continued their way to the next walkway, while Mercer kept his glare focused on the top. The next walkway was a bit to the side. Mercer snorted and dug his hand into the tower's metal side. “MacGrath!” He commanded, shifting to those absurdly muscular arms. “Come here. There are Dustmen up there. You have to take them by surprise.”

Cole understood what he wanted, and jumped over to his free arm like it was nothing. As soon his feet connected, Mercer threw his arm upwards, catapulting the courier easily three stories upwards. Cole hissed in surprise, but quickly got his wits together and angled his fall to target the few transients up there. As the men careened over the edge, Mercer appeared and effortlessly heaved himself and Zeke over the edge.

A few more Dustmen hadn't gotten the memo from earlier, but they were dealt with quickly. The way further up was mostly clear. Cole hissed when he realized that these parts here were mostly made from shipping containers welded together. There was barely anything to hold onto there. At least for him- his ally had little trouble, metal broke easily under his fingertips and shoes, while he had troubles finding edges. He could work with tiny indentations, but here weren't any and the wind was whistling sharply at his skin and bit in his eyes, making him blink.

Mercer paused where he was, then shifted to that whip claw. Cole noticed it from the corner of his eye, but he couldn't really react when the other easily shot the gleaming talon towards him, latched it onto his jacket- and whipped around, throwing the courier another four stories upwards. Cole's stomach had dropped into his knees through this action, but he could still react fast enough to grab onto a massive steel beam and pull himself to the next walkway with wobbly legs. He felt tremors going through the tower and heard Zeke's surprised yell when Mercer pushed off the wall and simply _sprinted_ upwards to flip over the edge. Three Dustmen rushed to meet him, but instead only ran into the lashing whip claw. After that, there wasn't enough left of them to be called a body anymore. When Cole reached them, one of those armored conduits tried to take them out.

Out of instinct, he ripped his hand up and unleashed a lightning bolt that did not glance off the metal like it did before. No, this time the bolt smashed right through the armor, leaving a smoldering hole in its wake. Cole slowly lowered his hand, staring at the damage he just caused with a _single_ attack. The conduit before him collapsed. It wasn't just electricity anymore- this had been more of an ion-cannon blast. Not electricity in the closer sense of the word, but rather high-energy projectiles made up of sub-atomar particles with enough power to get through metal easily.

 _Holy shit._ The Blast Shards really _did_ increase his abilities. Cole heard Dana's voice echo in his head. _Awesome to the max_. She was right.

He grinned. Let's see what those golem idiots thought about this now.

Mercer stiffened, eyes narrowing. “We're close”, he growled. “Close to Alden. I can _smell_ him.”

“What?” Cole frowned. “But...there hadn't been enough opposition here.”

“I know”, Mercer inclined his head. “Reminds me of Greene. Inside her Hive, nothing could stop her. Perhaps Alden believes here on his tower he won't be defeated?”

Cole growled. “He's wrong. We are going to beat his ass and we are going to get the Ray Sphere.” He picked up his voice. “You ready, Zeke?”

“Ready as always”, his friend replied.

“Good”, the courier scowled. “Let's do this.”

* * *

 

Alex admitted that the near total lack of opposition _was_ indeed worrisome. Plus, they _weren't_ walking into a trap. He had checked the top with his thermal scan and only found a few heat signatures.

Something was off. He felt it in his body, tingling at every cell with the feeling of danger. But it couldn't be changed now. They had to get the Ray Sphere and they had to hurry. MacGrath leapt off the steel beam he was perched on and latched onto another one that protruded out of the mixture of trash and metal sheets that made up most of the tower. Alex felt Dunbar's pulse pick up when the courier jumped the distance, completely without any regards for his own safety, though he did relax quickly when the other man's hands found purpose at the metal. MacGrath glanced at them and nodded, then carefully pulled himself up on the topmost platform.

Alex snorted and dug his feet into the solid metal, tendrils snaking out to anchor him there as he coiled his Biomass beneath. He let go, leaping straight upwards to reach the courier. To avoid cratering, he slammed one hand into the metal at the side and easily slid down to the other man's level.

The ground looked solid enough, so he pulled back his tentacles, allowing Dunbar to slide to the floor.

“Whew”, the fat man groaned, “Gotta admit that was kinda scary. My legs are all wobbly. This whole hangin' by a silken thread thing is a real thing, you know?”

Alex rolled his eyes, while MacGrath placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. “Hey, you can catch your breath first, Zeke, okay? Alex and I are going to clear out the opposition. When you feel ready- and I give you the signal- you try to grab the Ray Sphere. Alright?”

“Sure, brother.” Dunbar sniffed, then glanced at the platform in front of them. “Hey, what the Hell's going on? There's no-one even up here!”

“There are”, Alex growled, hands twisting into his lethal claws. “They're hiding.”

“Trying to ambush us”, Cole added with a dark scowl.

Something screeched with a metallic shriek above them, making all three whip around. Alex immediately went in front of Dunbar, while MacGrath summoned lightning into his hands.

Above them, attached to the central spire of the tower, was Alden. Suspended above them, encased in a massive orb made of glass and steel, the old man sneered down at them. In front of him, just outside of his capsule, was the Ray Sphere, surrounded by a gentle blue glow. They would just need to get past Alden to get the Sphere.

“You!” Alden screeched enraged, “I remember you! You locked me up like an animal, tied me to that bed, tried to electrocute me!” Metal started to however around him. “But I showed you and those pigs!” His old wrinkly face turned to Alex. “And you!” He continued in the same screech of his voice, “You dared to threaten me!”

“No”, Alex replied calmly, though he did scrape his talons together with a metallic shriek, “I _warned_ you. Now I'm going to go through with my warning.”

“I will not let you defeat me!” Alden screeched as his capsule lowered itself to the floor. The entire tower shook, seconds before countless highly explosive grenades started to rain across the platform. Dunbar dove behind cover. Alex snarled and backed off too with his armor rising from his body to encase his Biomass. He was through with playing around- he would go straight through the blasts to get to Alden.

MacGrath was doing a different dance- he was still nimbly and moved fast from one end of the platform to the other, using his shockwave powers to bounce the explosives back. Several Dustmen swarmed them, but they weren't much more than roadbumbs. Alex figured it was hard to get a reading on Alden, though- the explosions around him increased the temperature immensely, making it impossible to see him through his thermal vision. Smoke obstructed the normal view, and the infected vision was pretty much useless anyways with only humans around.

“I know why you're here!” Alden screeched, “What you want! Nobody's taking a damn thing from me!”

MacGrath lunged to the front, slamming bodily into a Dustman Conduit and throwing him off the platform to his demise. “My only way out of this Hellhole is through you, Alden”, he snarled, smacking a shockwave into another conduit, “And by God, I won't let you stop me.” Alex pounced at the downed conduit who landed next to him and instantly consumed him. His Biomass levels were too low anyways, barely containing the amount that accounted for maybe six people.

“You're a fool, boy”, Alden sneered, obviously unaffected by his follower's violent demise, “Only seeing what others are showing you. But you'll learn soon enough.” He spread his arms and the metal around hims shuddered. “When my tower is complete, I will be reborn! This tired, old body will be gone, replaced by cold steel and concrete. And then I will fulfill my destiny. By God, I'll take what is mine!”

Alex snorted and kicked off the floor, colliding into Alden's protective casing with enough force to crack the glass. Alden jerked back and screamed curses at him, while Alex pulled his arms back and smashed them into the dome. Much to his surprise, the glass did give in, but somehow it was still holding together, so it was obvious that Alden's powers kept him away. However, this also meant the old coot _had_ to focus on him to avoid being splattered. Creating an opening.

“Zeke!” MacGrath shouted from behind him amidst the crackle of lightning, “Do it! Go!”

Alex saw the fat man rush towards them, latching onto the Ray Sphere and trying to break it off its pedestal. Alden screeched again, drawing his attention. The Runner snarled at him and dug his fingers into the metal surrounding the glass. Countless tendrils curled from his armored back and arms and started to wrap around Alden's protective dome in dense layers. Alex hissed and focused on the tentacles, adding more and more layers to them. At the same time, numerous small spikes started to grow on their underside, driving themselves deep into the glass. His head was starting to feel fuzzy, a clear sign his body was stretched too thin, but hopefully he wouldn't have to keep this up for too long.

He knew that trying to crush an orb would take too much effort and trying to cave it in with his fists would give Alden the chance to either reinforce the area Alex was working on, or slip away backwards. But like this- with Blacklight all around the capsule and keeping it in a crushing grip- Alden wouldn't have a chance to escape. The Runner grinned, though unseen through his armor, at the startled face of the old man. At the moment, the conduit's powers were enough to keep the crushing force off and hold the barrier, but at what cost? There wasn't any way for him to breathe, as he had instantly closed the air vents when Alex attacked him. Sooner or later the oxygen levels inside that ball would be too low for Alden to stay conscious, or he would overexert his powers too much and collapse from the sheer strain.

Alex could wait this out. He was patient like this.

The groan of metal drew his attention for a split second, though he didn't let the pressure up he had going on. He twisted his head to the side, watching one of these golems rise from the floor. He scowled at the thing. He knew he was the one able to shred it the easiest, but he was unwilling to release Alden since he had him now exactly where he wanted.

MacGrath took that decision off him. With a dark growl, the courier swung around to face the golem, lightning crackling along his arms in a display of powers. “You really have a thing for trash monsters, have you?” MacGrath asked with a snarl. The golem took a thundering step towards him. The courier flung out his arm and shot one of those massive orb lightnings at the construct. The first one was dissipated harmlessly through the metal construction, but the second hit something vital. The golem swayed, the soft yellow glow around its body darkening to a more orange tone. Alex watched in surprise how the courier effortlessly avoided the flaming projectiles or threw up a shield he hadn't seen before up to block the incoming bullets of scrap metal. He darted along the floor while shooting bolts of lightning. And, unlike yesterday, his attacks did have a noticeable effect. The golem swayed again, then suddenly collapsed into a pile of trash and metal, leaving the conduit bewildered and defenseless on the ground.

MacGrath pounced at the man like a wild cat, fast and without mercy. Alex noticed those energy blades attached to the end of his wrists, eyebrows arching upwards at the obvious intent of the younger man. He not only attempted to defeat that golem conduit, he wanted to do so _close up and personal_. Cole let out a wordless shout as he lunged at the other conduit, energy blades sinking deep into the latter's chest. The man reeled back and stayed down. Dunbar had stopped his struggle with the Ray Sphere momentarily, until MacGrath turned around and glared at some point behind them.

_Brap Brap Brap_

Alex's head whipped around when he heard the roar of helicopter blades, eyes narrowing on the chopper coming towards them. A _Blackhawk_ , but none of Blackwatch's. Instead of a star with a trident, it showed a star in an octagonal.

It belonged to the _First Sons_. Like the one he sank at the Adams Building. He turned slightly, tentacles still wrapped around Alden's capsule and still writhing against it to break it, but the helicopter had his attention now. He didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.

The Blackhawk swung around, and the side door slid open. Alex's eyes widened beneath his armor at the sight of an old man in a trench coat casually leaning out of the door. His back bristled in alarm. Something was wrong.

MacGrath's reaction was less refined. In an instant, there was lightning back around his arms and a low growl erupted from his throat. “Kessler”

Alex's brain shot into a frenzied mode. _That_ was Kessler? _That_ was the fuck that destroyed Empire? _That_ was the bastard that nearly killed Dana?!

He growled, a low sound that echoed through his chest. His armor was shifting, spikes rising out of his collar, shoulders and elbows, while it coloration became darker. As the joints between his plates started to glow in a fiery tone, the tentacles still wrapped around Alden's protective casing stopped their writhing and started to grow armor as well.

The lightning bolt that hit him caught him wholly unprepared.

Alex swore, jerking back and forced to release Alden as his tentacles were simply gone with one blow. Not even burnt- but simply _evaporated_ through the extreme and concentrated heat of the attack. Half his Biomass simply _gone_ . _Fuck!_

Then Kessler was suddenly _there_ . He appeared right next to the Runner, sneer on his face. Alex swung into his direction, claws slicing through his coat in an attempt to rip his head off. Kessler not only easily ducked asides and instantly teleported to the other end of the platform, but the swing was too slow and too shallow to have caused any real damage. For some reason, Alex realized in terror, he was _holding back_.

The Runner snarled and whipped back around, Whipfist ready to unleash it. Instead of cutting through the man, Kessler easily caught the lethal biological weapon in a field of white sparking electricity. “Ah. Blacklight” He jerked his body backwards, tearing Alex's Whipfist right off before the heat of the lightning evaporated it instantly, leaving not even ashes behind. Then he moved, rushing right up to the Runner. Alex snarled, bringing his remaining claw up to try to skewer the bastard, but then Kessler vanished.

He was suddenly _behind_ Alex, much too fast for him to react, and proceeded with slamming a single blade made of static electricity right through his chest, the sheer heat allowing him to ignore his armor all the way through.

Even though he did not have any vital organs in any part of his body, it still hurt like a bitch. Alex growled and released his Biomass, shooting it backwards in massive spears, aiming to take off Kessler's head.

But by then, Kessler had already teleported away, letting his attack run into nothing in particular. The Runner growled enraged and pulled back his armor, seeing as it offered absolutely zero resistance against the First Son's leader and only slowed him down. In a surge of Biomass, his lost arm was replaced for another talon. His rage increased his internal temperature, which in turn boosted his natural speed- so when Kessler made a move again, Alex was ready. He whirled and sliced the left claw at the old conduit, though Kessler side-stepped. Alex anticipated it and slashed his other claw. Kessler avoided it, swinging to the side once more- when the Runner twisted his left wrist and _yanked_ his claw at an awkward angle. His nails ripped through Kessler's side, making the older man gasp in surprise and pain.

Alex hissed enraged when warm blood splattered against his chest. He pushed to the front, not letting Kessler gain his momentum back. His body was coiling painfully, demanding him to destroy that old fart and consume him to at least get _some_ Biomass back.

“Impressive, Blacklight”, Kessler muttered. Alex saw his fingers curl together and instantly jumped back, instincts roaring at him to get as much distance as he could between himself and that old man.

“Not so fast” Fetters of sparking electricity snared his ankle and made him lose his balance. Alex swore and quickly caught himself, but at the cost of exposing himself. Kessler was upon him entirely _too_ fast- faster than any human even had the _right_ to- and just grabbed his temples. Alex snarled and instantly sliced his claws in a scissor-like motion, tearing through the old man's chest and stomach, but it didn't stop or kill the guy in _any_ way.

Hundred thousands of volts slammed through his body and burnt away his Biomass in return. Too fast and too hot- this wasn't even like a thermobaric shell. It was like the nuclear explosion all over again, tearing and burning and _shredding_.

Alex screeched in pain.

* * *

 

 _Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh_ _**fuck** _ _!_

Cole couldn't believe what he was seeing. Shit- he was aware Kessler was one tough bastard, but to be able to... _fuck!_

It all happened too fast.

Kessler had jumped Mercer and had proceeded with stomping _him into the curb!_ Even though he caught those lethal claws to the front of his body, he ended up _on top_. Kessler had, within half a minute, utterly decimated the thing that terrorized the entirety of Manhattan.

 _And he did not look worse for wear._ More even, Cole realized in horror, Kessler's wounds simply grew shut in a flurry of electricity. _Exactly like he did_.

And not only that- Kessler's powers looked almost the same as his did- from the electric blades to the force fields and lightning bolts. Only, they were much, much, _much_ stronger, able to pierce even Mercer's armor that proved impenetrable to his own attacks.

_Just who was that guy?_

He dropped the terrorist's smoldering body and casually stepped over it, icy glare fixing the courier. Cole swallowed.

At that moment, the entire tower shook violently, making him stumble and swear.

“Kessler!” Alden screeched enraged, “You stole my childhood! My home! You dare come here!”

Kessler shook his head disapprovingly, though Cole could hear a sharp edge to his breathing. He was tired from taking out Mercer. Small mercies, that meant this old man was not as tough as he would like to seem. “Poor, poor Alden”, Kessler taunted. “All that potential- squandered. Your father would have been so disappointed.”

That hit a nerve. “You dare mention my father?!” Alden howled over the shriek of bursting metal. “I'll kill you! All of you! Tear you from limb to limb!”

He was going to bring down the entire tower! “Zeke!” Cole hollered, whirling around in panic, “Get out of here!” Kessler sneered at his roommate and moved towards him. Zeke was frozen in terror, eyes wide and glued to the old man. Cole forced himself to dash over to him. “Run!!”

Zeke reacted, yanking out the Ray Sphere from its cradle. Alden screeched enraged and Kessler was still approaching him. Fear shut him down as he stared at the two men like a rabbit stared at a snake. He was trapped between them. Cole swore and jumped into action, trying to reach his best friend and get him the fuck out of here.

Zeke plunged two fingers into the Ray Sphere, and the Sphere's glow instantly increased, glowing like a miniature sun.

Cole jerked to a halt, but even Kessler and Alden flinched back upon realization. _Listen. I'd say we crack that baby open and give everyone powers. This is awesome! This whole superhero racket. I could get used livin' like that. Wish I had that kind of power._

Zeke had just activated the Ray Sphere. He just damned _thousands_ , only to get superpowers himself. _Stupid stupid stupid asshole!_

There was a click and the glow stopped abruptly. The Ray Sphere stopped glowing, sitting like a dead weight in Zeke's hands. Nothing had happened. Zeke wasn't a conduit. Zeke _wasn't_ a conduit. The Sphere didn't work for him.

“I see” Zeke whirled at the voice, eyes blown wide. Kessler stood there, grinning. “I see now. You want powers, right? Powers like your friend?” His grin widened. “The Ray Sphere won't work the way it is now.”

“What?” Zeke squeaked.

“Oh, I know. If you bring that thing over here, I can fix it.” Cole felt bile creep up his throat. He knew what he was going to say. He knew what he was _trying_.

But he couldn't speak. Kessler, however, smirked at Zeke. “I can fix the Ray Sphere and make sure you get your powers. That's what you always wanted, correct?”

Zeke's eyes widened, and he just stood there, staring at Kessler and the Ray Sphere. He slowly turned, locking eyes with Cole.

Cole stared at him, jaw slack and panic written on his face. He slowly shook his head. _Don't do it, Zeke. Please, don't do it._

Zeke ran off, right towards Kessler. The old man smirked and hauled Zeke's ass into the helicopter as it pulled away.

Alden screeched in rage and the entire tower shook, metal burst and broke as the tower was torn apart.

Cole could only stand there, dumbfounded. An icy feeling crawled through his stomach and rendered every limb to lead. It numbed his body, and dulled his senses.

He barely felt the tons of steel and concrete burying him when the tower collapsed.

 


	23. Alden's Rampage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, let's face Alden.

**Alden's Rampage**

 

The sky was pitch black. Clouds covered the stars and the moon, swallowed up whatever light there might have been.

On top of Alden's Tower, the broken remains of its pinnacle creaked in protest. Light discharges ran through it, until it buckled and slid up. Cole struggled free, panting and choking. His limbs were shaking badly, and his right cheek felt like it was on fire. But he didn't care for that. There was a lump in his throat, one that remained there no matter how often he tried to swallow it back. He refused to cry. But it was so hard. Zeke gone. The Ray Sphere gone. Alden gone. Kessler gone. Mercer  gone.

Fuck this.

Cole groaned and placed his head in his hands, sobs running in tremors through his body. “Why, Zeke? Why Kessler?” He asked. “Why did you do this?”

There was no answer.

Lightning lashed out of his skin. “WHY?!” He snapped, angry this time. The cold numbness that spread through his body began to gradually change. Something stirred in his guts like a snake, writhing and coiling in hot rage.

“You fucking idiot!” Cole barked, digging his fingers into his scalp, “God damnit, Zeke!”

He should have seen this one coming, damnit. He  _should_ have. Zeke  _always_ wanted to be like him. He  _wanted_ to have powers.

It was a mistake taking him with them. But he thought that _maybe_ he would have learnt, that _maybe_ he could have trusted him. He did not.

Now he was all alone.

“ _I told you to pick someone you can trust”_ , John White's voice startled the courier. Shit, he had forgotten about that NSA bastard.

Cole was beyond angry. At himself. At Zeke. At Kessler. Yet, despite everything, he still tried to defend his choices, despite knowing he fucked that up. “Zeke's my best friend! Like a brother to me! He's about the only person I do trust.” He cut himself off with a groan, sitting down and staring at the black sky. “Or did, anyways.”

“ _Well, you blew it”_ , John accused him. _“And now Alden's on a killing spree and Kessler has the Ray Sphere.”_ He huffed out. _“We need to resolve both situations.”_

Cole scowled, anger flaring again. Thanks, he did  _not_ need John to pour salt into his wounds like that. “I'm starting to think none of this is  _my_ problem.” He scoffed loudly, expression darkening. “Maybe I should let these two slug it out and swoop in and nab the Ray Sphere when the dust settles.”

“ _What if one of them activates it?”_ , John questioned. _“And kills another ten thousand people? And who the Hell knows what this Moya person wants with it.”_ There was a pause. _“No. This is the only way.”_

Cole's lips peeled away from his teeth. “You better be serious about destroying it. I'm in no mood!” _Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice and I will tear your spine out through your eye socket and beat people to death with it._

“ _You have my word”_ , John assured him and cut the connection. Didn't look like he wanted to be around him either.

Cole was left alone and his mood worsened instantly. Shit. He had to stop Alden from causing a massacre. But where was he now? And how much time had passed anyways?

“There's that bastard!” He whipped around, eyes narrow. He barely noticed the sharp sting from his cheek when catching sight of six Dustmen that had scrambled to the ruined top of the tower, all of them armed and ready to shoot. Cole glared at them, body ducking to prepare himself. But he didn't attack _yet_. No, first he wanted to see what was going to happen.

The Dustmen stepped to the front, guns snapping to the front to shoot at him. Cole craved for it, waited for the physical pain. Just to pull his mind away from the dark thoughts and the snake curling in his guts.

The hindmost Dustman  _screamed_ . His rifle clattered to the ground at the same time as he tried to wrench his leg free.  _Something_ was latched onto his ankle, pulling at him. His buddies had turned around, suspiciously. Half of them glanced at the stuff, the others kept glaring at the courier, though they were still curious about what it was. Cole watched the black gunk rise up and coil almost gently over the Dustman's leg. Red and black, oozing and bubbling like tar. One of the other poked his rifle at the stuff and it froze, coiling back.

It suddenly  _exploded_ . Thin tentacles shot into every direction with a startling speed and force. Several of them easily impaled the Dustmen, keeping them there. The men gagged and tried to pull free, but the stuff wouldn't let them. Instead, its form tightened.

The six men were slammed into the rubble with so much force, their bones simply shattered. Cole didn't know whether they were alive or not, but he really didn't care. He watched with a trembling body how the Dustmen were ensnared and pulled into the center, melted down in a massive amount of black tentacles and red flesh.

And then the mass started to squelch and curled in on itself, dragging everything closer to its center, which buckled and rose upwards. Turning into something  _human_ . Black tentacles flattened and formed into wide expanses of pale skin, dark leather and faded jeans. Pale blue eyes swam into focus just beneath the gray hood, and the man made a noise that sounded like something between a gasp and a choke.

Cole just stared in horror. He had known the other wasn't  _human_ , but  _this-_ this was just impossible. Yet he'd seen it happen. Like a phoenix rising from its own ashes, Mercer had completely revived himself. He had literally regenerated from little more than a puddle on the floor.

It was  _insane_ .

Yet, at the same time, Cole couldn't help but feel relief flooding through his body, soothing the rage inside. Mercer was still there. He was alive. No matter  _how_ they started out- he had always been the  _only_ one who gave him straight answers.  _Him_ . The one that was blamed for Manhattan. The one that had been hiding for three years. A thing made to kill and absorb humans. The  _only_ honest one.

His shoulders slumped. “Shit, Alex”, he ground out. “I was afraid you'd be done for.”

He saw those pale eyes flicker in confusion, so he hurried to clarify. “Kessler”, he pointed out. “He torched you good.”

Mercer inclined his head. “Right”, he grated out. His voice sounded raw, like he was unused to speaking. “Kessler”, He frowned. “I remember.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “He could have killed me”, he realized. “He had the chance- but he hadn't done so.”

“Dude. You _melted_.”

“Yes, but this is not lethal to me.” His expression shifted. “He _must_ have known what I can do, but he didn't bother _finishing_ the job.” He furrowed his brows, but then shook his head. “Not important right now.” He glared at Cole. “What happened?”

The snake was back, curling even tighter through his stomach. Cole swallowed and his eyes went dark.

“Zeke”, he growled, “Handed the Ray Sphere over to Kessler. Ran away with that bastard.” He huffed out, clenching his fists. “Now Alden's somewhere down there, raging his way over to the Historic, murdering everybody he comes across.”

Mercer's eyes widened. “What?” His expression quickly changed into a deep scowl. “Then there's no time left, Cole. He has to be stopped.”

Cole seemed alarmed. “Do you know where he is?”

“No. But I got his scent. Bastard can't escape me.”

_Like a dog. Fitting, since he disguised himself as one._ The courier's face settled into a determined frown. “Let's do this.”

Mercer turned north and headed to the edge of the platform, peering across the dark city. “Alex?” He turned slightly at the sound of his own name. Not enough to let Cole see his eyes, but enough to let him see the tip of his nose. “Alden- I don't want him to walk away after this. Once we have found him- do whatever you want.”

He saw those pale lips peel away from too sharp teeth in a monstrous grin. “Perfect.”

* * *

 

They had jumped off Alden's Tower and were now soaring through the night sky. Alex found it hard  _not_ to outspeed MacGrath- his thrusters were more of a slowed descent than actual gliding, making them far less efficient than his own break-neck speed gliding ability. But after what he went through- and even though Alex had no idea what exactly happened, he still recognized the feeling of betrayal and rage- he decided to let him have a part of whatever they were going to do to Alden once they found him. Hell, he chuckled amused at that thought, he'd even let him tear that old fart limb from fucking limb if it made him feel better. He just had to remind him to keep the skull and brain intact for information.

He glanced down, brows furrowed at the trail of destruction and dead people. He wouldn't need following the old coot by his scent, just following the path of devastation was more than enough. Currently, there were medics all over the place, working to rescue those who could be rescued (which weren't that many, come to think of it). It barely fazed him, Manhattan had long since desensitized him- and he himself had caused far more damage in parts of the city after all. The loss of human life was to be expected when facing superpowered forces.

MacGrath's reaction to the mess was more emotional. He was making a series of snarling noises, as well as deep whimpers. It was obvious he was still feeling  _something_ towards his fellow humans, something that was still there despite the white-hot rage.

Alex was aware he was blaming himself for this, for the entire mess, though things had gone right out of control with Kessler's appearance. And this was where his brain refused to continue working- because that bastard took even  _him_ out with no great trouble. Sure, Alex did manage to slash him a few times, but from what MacGrath told him, it had no lasting effect. And more even, hadn't Kessler stopped using the heat of his attacks to continue burning him away, he might have even  _killed_ him. 

He wasn't sure whether it would have been  _permanent_ , since a large part of Blacklight was still alive in the form of Heller at the other end of the continent, but at any rate, it would have been catastrophic in the best of times. And it showed him what exactly Cross had used when he defeated him. He was way too arrogant in his abilities. Even if he could easily take out nearly all foes that came at him, it made him automatically disregard whoever else was there. A completely  _human_ reaction- why should he care about single guys when he fucking dismembered even the largest of enemies within  _moments_ ? But sometimes, a single guy was more than enough to knock him down.

And Kessler was one of those guys. Though, during this, Kessler also showed his hand too early- now he knew  _what_ exactly Kessler's conduit powers were.

Electrokinesis. Just like Cole.

It confused him somewhat. With prime conduits as rare as they were, having two with exactly the same powers in the same city was near impossible. So the odds of these two ever meeting should be astronomical low, shouldn't it? Plus, Kessler's  _scent_ bothered him. It was familiar in a way, but he just couldn't place it. Damn it. He really should have consumed the blood he managed to gather when he had managed to injure the old man. He could have had more information then.

The wasted chance ate away at him.

Oh well. As Dana would have put it 'Life always gives you a second chance'. Alex was sure to seize it the next time he met the old man.

Though, the more pressing matter was _Alden_. The old coot who was now rampaging across the Warren to make his way over to the Historic. Alex was certain that Kessler would probably be able to stop the other conduit, leaving him hopefully exhausted- and any other time he would have been content with chasing after the man to seize his chance once the conflict was over- but Kessler hadn't destroyed Alden when he had the chance. Which meant he wasn't even _interested_ in fighting the old man.

Instead, he let Alden run out of fumes on his own, just watching how the old man tore his way through the city- and this was what Alex wasn't okay with. What if he didn't find him in the Historic? He would turn around and turn the entire place to rubble, endangering _Dana_ while at it. He couldn't allow this and as much as it angered him that Alden was their problem now, he couldn't let him be on his merry way.

Cole and him touched down on a roof a large distance away from Alden's Tower as they followed his track. Alex immediately pushed off again to continue his gliding, while Cole hurried to the end of the roof and jumped onto one of the high voltage wires to grind along it, lacking the ability to re-gain height and resume his soaring. The grounded way of moving was fast enough to keep up with Alex however, though like all of the courier's movement abilities it wasn't exactly inconspicuous.

Whatever. It wasn't like they tried to hide from Alden. No. He was  _supposed_ to see them coming. He was supposed to know they came for  _him_ . And Alden's track did a sharp turn. “He went along here”, Alex declared. “And he's close.”

“Good”, MacGrath growled, static electricity crackling along his body. “Once we get him, he's dead.”

“Yes”, Alex echoed. He stopped however, eyes narrowing at the sight of the stiff posture of the other's body. He frowned for a second, then tilted his head. “When have you eaten the last time?”

“What?” MacGrath sounded disbelievingly. “Alden's on a massacre spree and you want to know when I have _eaten_ last?”

“Yes”, the Runner replied. “Your healing has slowed down.”

The courier froze, eyes narrow. “What?”

Alex inclined his head and took a step towards the younger man, pale fingers touching his cheek. MacGrath flinched back with a pained hiss, and Alex lifted his hand in front of his face. It was red.

“See this?” The Runner questioned, and the courier stared at him with a shocked expression. There was a nasty, bleeding gash just at the right side of his face. Alex wondered how the other man missed it. “You had this when I woke up. It barely healed, just scabbed over- which means your healing is at a normal human level at the moment- your powers are restricted.”

MacGrath's expression twisted into a mixture of confusion and annoyance. “So what? You're telling me to take it  _slow_ ? Alden's out there, killing people-”

“I'm not telling you to do anything”, Alex cut him off. “I'm asking you to reconsider. Remember, you are still human. Stronger and more resilient than normal ones, but still human. Any well-placed blow could take you out, could maybe even _kill_ you if you aren't careful.”

He cocked his head, eyes half-lidded. “Dana asked me to look out for you, but I'm not going to make decisions for you. Once Alden is dead, you may do whatever you want, though I do suggest you'd take a rest. Kessler's powerful, and the First Sons are professionals. If you aren't careful, you might end up getting injured or worse.”

MacGrath glanced at him with a frown, though slumped his shoulders and went on to drain the fuse box. Alex watched how the electricity knitted his body back together, though the wound remained as a scar.  _Interesting._ So there were limits to his fast healing. Limits that possibly dependent on the total amount of energy still left. While the man could still hover and glide across surfaces, it obviously wasn't enough to repair injuries. Or, perhaps, his body was running  _empty_ , with only the consumed energy delaying a shock. Human bodies couldn't work without energy and nutrients, especially during stressful times. While conduits were a lot tougher and MacGrath was obviously able to cut his food intake by supplying his metabolism with electrical energy, his system was unable to repair wounds without a sufficient intake of materials required for cellular regeneration.

He'd have to get him to eat something better sooner than later, or he would simply kill himself through neglect. 

The courier touched his face gently, sniffing when he found the fresh scar. “Huh”, He grumbled. “Guess I should be happy it is  _just_ that. If that is all that remains from a tower falling on me, I can't argue about that.” So his body had drained most of the remaining energy protecting itself- but it was unable to heal injuries from it. This was familiar to him- Blacklight itself could not heal in time if the damage accumulated was too great- the tissue could simply not roate mass around fast enough or generate new one.

MacGrath grunted and headed to the other side of the roof, glaring at the massive suspension bridge and the trail of destruction leading to it. The Freeway Bridge, and it connected the Warren with the Historic as one of two present bridges.

And Alden was somewhere on this bridge, tearing across it on his rampage to the Historic District.

“We have to stop that old fart”, MacGrath growled. “Before even _more_ people die.” He furrowed his brows in a dark glare. “And we have to stop Kessler.”

Yeah. He could agree with that. Alex slammed his fists together. “Let's do this.”

* * *

 

The rage was back. It was still curling through his stomach like an angry snake, but the white hot burn was gone, replaced for an simmering, calculating wrath. Alden was going to die. Cole would tear him to shreds.

And after Alden, Kessler. Then he would try to figure out what was going to happen after that.

His eyes narrowed dangerously at the sight of the Freeway Bridge. The two-lane street was cluttered with broken vehicles. There was blood and soot everywhere. He spied corpses of innocent civilians, who had simply gotten into the way. Fires were burning all across the street, spewing foul black smoke skywards, and the supports between the mighty suspension cables were twisted and broken. Not that there  _was_ left much of the street anyways- the Freeway Bridge was trembling and rocking, and large pieces of the lanes had dropped into the churning bay below.

In his rage, Alden was tearing the entire bridge apart.

A small voice in the back of his brain told Cole to just hang back and let Alden fight Kessler, then simply pick off whoever remained standing. But if he did, then a whole lot of people were going to die until then. John had been right about that one.

“Hurry”, Mercer growled, and both men started to rush onto the bridge. Oil and gas had been spilled in front of them, creating an inferno that burnt hot enough to melt the asphalt beneath. Cole furrowed his brows and immediately kept looking for a way to get past that without getting burnt to a crisp. Mercer strode up and down, checking the ground behind the inferno. Most likely to figure out the distance.

The bridge suddenly shook violently. Metal burst and the lanes shook, followed by a ghastly howl of compressed air rushing into their faces. Cole stumbled with a swear, ducking to wait it out.

“What was that?!”

“Alden”, Alex growled. “His powers have increased through his blind rage.”

“He's going to tear this bridge down at this rate!”

“Yes. Which is why we need to hurry.”

Cole swore and hurried to the side, effortlessly climbing up the suspension cables to reach the metal construction above the burning street level. The fumes of the burning asphalt from below were noticeable up here, and Cole found himself breathing more through his mouth than his nose. It was also dark, with only the fires burning below allowing for some illumination. Cole knew that Alden was expecting them, but he didn't really wanted to warn him of their presence any more than necessary.

Though, without any additional light, he was more or less blind. It was extremely dark, after all. Though, he could still see the Dustmen who were hidden among the support beams with the help of his radar senses, allowing him to take them down before they managed to spot him.

Those he couldn't spot, or who were too close to conductive metal Mercer took care of. The lethal black whip he could use was fast and precise- and could rip through flesh and metal without any problem. Across from them, down the street, was something  _big_ . Cole paused, crouching low.  _What was that?_ From the corner of his eyes, he saw Mercer tense, then he felt a tremor run through his legs.

All of a sudden, the entire bridge  _shook_ . No. It didn't just shake- it was almost bucking, twisting and turning like a large animal trying to shake fleas off its body. Cole swore and dug his fingers deep into the steel beams beneath to stop himself from falling off.

There was the hollow groan of metal bursting, and he watched in shock as giant steel beams the size of buses snapped off and plummeted downwards to the street, breaking it too off and sending everything tumbling into the churning waters below.

“Shit”, Mercer growled, “This does _not_ look too good.”

There was another tremor, and huge parts of the still standing bars broke. How much longer could the bridge hold its own weight with its supporting structure collapsing the way it did? “Ah, crap”, Cole groaned when he realized that his way onwards was obstructed now, the holes being simply too large for him. “I can't cross that kind of distance.” He glanced at the other end of the gap, where a piece of support was still standing. “Throw me”, he said after a short moment.

To his credits, Mercer didn't look at him dumbfounded. Instead, he only nodded. His arms shivered and turned into those muscled limbs, and Cole carefully edged to the side to climb on one massive palm. The entire bridge was still shaking, and the threat to fall off was still clawing at the back of his brain.

Mercer, thankfully, was perfectly able to balance himself, despite the violent tremors around him. Cole could hear the noise those tentacles made when they moved against each other, and when he turned his head slightly, he saw them lash themselves to the steel beneath. Mercer grunted once and carefully stood up, with Cole still perched on his right forearm like some kind of parrot. The courier had his fingers tangled into the material of the gray hood to keep his own balance.

“Ready?” Mercer asked. Cole only nodded wordlessly, feeling the muscles beneath his feet coil. That was all the warning he got before Mercer's arm shot to the front, catapulting him off and sending him flying through the air. The distance was laughable easy to cross, and Cole did manage to snatch the steel beam, though the air was punched out from his lungs when all he did was hit the rebar with his stomach and chest, ending up hanging awkwardly half off it.

The next moment, Mercer hit this side in a perfect crouch, his body finding purchase even against completely naked metal. Without asking, he easily pulled the courier up to stand next to him.

“Thanks”, Cole muttered, dusting himself off.

Mercer didn't answer asides from another low rumble out of his chest. Huh, he'd been more talkative before. Maybe it was the close proximity to Alden that made him clam up the way he did. Cole could understand it- his own brain was busy alternating between God-to-honest  _fear_ from the much more powerful old man, white-hot rage that rushed through his body and demanded him to murder that fucker, and cold, calculating scheming on  _how_ to take him down exactly. He knew a direct confrontation was going to end badly, so he needed a better plan.

Mercer made a noise, the muscled limps melting away and shifting back into that whip-claw of his. He lunged it into the darkness, followed by the pained shriek of a Dustman. Somehow, these guys had managed to stick around despite all the quaking.

“I know you are back there, electric man!” Cole cringed slightly from the volume of Alden's shout, knowing fully well he wasn't anywhere nearby. Where was he? The fog that crawled in from the bay obstructed too much of his sight, forcing him to more or less stumble around in the dark. Alden could lunge at them every moment now, and he wouldn't have any chance to defend himself in time.

The tremor that ran through the bridge was even more brutal than the last one, forcing him to duck to the steel beams and dig his fingers into the metal. Mercer crouched besides him, one hand on his back to keep him steady, while the other was curled into the steel as well.

“He's losing it”, he growled in a low tone. “Control is slipping through his fingers.”

“Isn't that a good thing?” Cole questioned, “Makes him less likely to think?”

“Yes and no”, Mercer frowned. “I've seen it before. When they are pissed like that, and got nothing to lose, then they won't take care _who_ they are attacking. They put their entire effort into killing. And their anger gives them strength. However, their perception is lower when enraged, makes it easier to hide from them if necessary.”

“Good”, the courier grunted, carefully climbing back to his feet. “Let's draw him out and beat him to the ground.” He went to the end of the steel beam, where a car was impaled on what had been a traffic sign. His eyes narrowed and electricity surged around him. “He's there. I can feel him.”

The bridge shook again violently, though Cole managed to stay upright this time. “You won't stop me!” Alden screeched enraged, “No one will!”

Mercer grunted. “Let's see about this.”

Cole nodded once and glared into the abyss below. He couldn't see the street anymore, though there were still some emergency lights that tried their best to illuminate the dense fog. There was still a piece of street left, suspended between the massive pylons. But was it enough? Would it still be stable?

Cole didn't know.

He still took the leap of faith, hurling his body through the cold mist into an uncertain fate. If he'd miss the remaining pieces of the street, he'd fall into the water and drown. If he stuck to the landing, he'd have to face Alden.

Not sure which was preferable.

His feet hit the asphalt lanes several stories down. The street trembled, but held for the moment. Cole's eyes narrowed on the massive shadow moving in front of him. The bridge shook again, and there was the hollow groan of metal moving, rubbing against each other with a shrieking noise.

“Alden!” Cole hollered at the top of his lungs, “This ends now!”

For a moment, the fog receded, but that was all Cole needed to catch a glimpse of his foe.

_Holy Shit._

A giant golem, easily three to four stories tall, rose in front of him. The metal plates were thick, and connected to each other. There was barely a gap in its armor, which meant that it would be able to protect Alden well enough from his lightning attacks.

The golem didn't have legs, though, was instead missing from the hips upwards, where it rose from an inferno of burning gasoline. Its massive arms and reach made up for that handicap easily enough. It even had a head, something the other golems were missing- with a single glowing eye. Just like Alden himself.

Cole swallowed, but still ducked low to prepare himself. His eyes locked with the old man's, who glared at him hatefully from behind his protective orb inside the golem's mouth.

“Ignorant piss-ant!” Alden screeched enraged, and the entire bridge shook again. Broken cables snapped through the air, and towards the Warren the support beams continued to break and crumble away. The old man continued his tirade, voice rising to a scream. “This is what my father wanted!” He declared. “Me! Governing all that I could see! My destiny will be fulfilled!”

His eyes narrowed on Cole, who felt honest to God  _fear_ run down the length of his spine. “You're like Kessler!”, Alden spat hatefully, “Craving what doesn't belong to you! None of you understand, see the truth. But I do. I see it all!” He followed his statement with a jerk of his head. Cole heard metal shriek as it burst above him. He dove to the side, avoiding being hit by the rubble, though he did notice a black figure drop from the destroyed support. It fell for a moment, before it curled up and burst through the air with an orange glowing trail.

“See?!” He snarled, “Even your friend can't hide from me!”

Mercer hit the street besides Cole in a crouch, eyes blazing crimson. “Just shut up and fight!” The terrorist growled enraged. He jerked his head into Cole's direction. “The metal will hamper with your electrical abilities. Aim for the areas between, create as much electrical disturbance as you can.” He scoffed. “I'll distract him, create an opening- Alden can't focus on you if he has to keep his construct together. Once he's exposed, shoot him with everything you have- he has metal implants in his skull, and they should be perfect targets.”

“With pleasure”

Mercer pounced off the floor, catapulted himself across the gap and right into the giant golem. The force of the impact swung the entire thing back, and Alden screeched enraged. The giant arm came up, trying to brush the man off, but Mercer easily avoided the clumsy attempt by leaping upwards to thrust himself back into the Golem with some form of air-dash. With Alden's attention off him now, Cole instantly generated the ball lightnings to chuck them at the giant thing, though he only hit the plates instead where the charge dissipated harmlessly.

Cole ground his teeth together and avoided a burning car that was thrown into his direction in retaliation. Shooting the plates wouldn't help- he had to target the joints, where the metal was thinner.

“Heads up!” Mercer shouted. Cole could see him screw his body skywards and draw his legs against his body. His fists were enlarged chunks of concrete again, but he didn't tuck them in. Instead he swung them downwards _hard_ once he reached the street.

The asphalt buckled under the strength of the impact, seconds before giant black spikes broke through the ground. Each spear was easily fifteen feet and higher, and they tore with ease into the metal of the golem.

Alden shrieked enraged, his focus shifting instantly from Cole and Mercer to keeping his construct in one piece, and when he did, he left himself wide open. Cole instantly targeted the small plates along the old man's scalp- metal plates that would helpfully conduct his lightning bolts right into his brain. The old man howled in pain when the violent discharges hit him, but the golem snapped back upright and covered the old man. Its fist slammed down, forcing Mercer to roll to the side and jump back upwards to avoid the blow. At the same time, the trash metal around Cole warped and shattered, then turned into several trash crabs. They immediately lunged at the courier, trying to dig their claws into him.

Cole smashed a shockwave into them to shatter them, but couldn't pay attention to Alden that way. The golem's eye glowed and burning shrapnel shot towards him like bullets from a mini gun. The courier swore and flopped himself flat to the ground, just in time to see Mercer deliver a powerful kick into the construct's head, snapping the supports and bending it at an unnaturally angle. The shooting stopped, followed by Alden's enraged screams.

The younger conduit wasted no time to leap back to his feet and shoot more lightning bolts at the golem, this time trying to target the pale yellow glow in-between. If Alden was only controlling metal, then chances were that his powers weren't telekinesis- but rather _magnetokinesis_. He wasn't moving things with his mind but rather generated magnetic fields to move objects- and magnetic fields could be disturbed with electricity. Mercer had already suspected it, apparently, and if Cole managed to disturb the field enough, the golem would simply collapse. It had worked on that guy back at the tower.

Then there was also the _heat_ lightning generated. Ten thousand degree Celsius- too hot for _any_ material to withstand it. If he managed to focus enough heat in one place before the metal conducted it off, then he could possibly burn a field into the material, make it brittle and gain better access to the inside.

And this was already showing some success- He noticed the plates lighting up where he hit it, a soft orange shine originating from the metal itself as opposed to the reflected light from the aura.  _Maybe..._

Cole lugged several grenades into the golem's face to blind Alden, then targeted the area from before again, this time with higher-energy attacks. At the third lightning ball, the electricity had managed to tear a good-sized hole into the metal, its edges white-hot and melted.

“You ain't stopping me!” Alden screeched, “This is my birthright! My destiny!”

“Oh shut up”, Mercer snapped, tackling into the golem once again. The entire construct swayed to the side with a metallic shriek. The golem's mouth snapped open from the impact, allowing Cole to target the old fart once more. Several ball lightnings hit Alden's chest, though for the most parts, he didn't seem to bother noticing them, asides from an enraged howl.

Cole grunted when his lightning tapered off. Shit, he had wasted too much of his energy when his body protected itself from the falling debris at Alden's Tower, and he hadn't bothered recharging enough.

There was an emergency light nearby, the only source of electricity around. He ground his teeth and rushed over, then instantly started draining the energy. For a moment, he was weak, vulnerable.

But he was safe. Mercer snarled and lifted his massive fists again, slamming them over and over and  _over_ into the main armor plates of the golem to keep Alden's focus off the courier and on keeping his construct together. Cole could see the yellow glow of Alden's powers slowly turning into an orange color.

There was a hollow crack when Alden's golem swung around and smacked Mercer with full force, sending him crushing back into the support pylon. The metal buckled and broke under the impact. Alden sneered and moved his construct back upright, massive fists slamming into the ground and the bridge shook again. Cole swore and was forced to move closer to Alden's golem and the gap between them, when parts of the street he was on snapped off and dropped into the water. If this battle continued any longer, then Cole wouldn't have any room to dodge or run, would have to stand right next to the golem.

And unlike Mercer, he wouldn't be able to withstand a blow like the one that hit him without any problems.

“You think you can hurt me?!” Alden shrieked, his golem slamming his fist down into the still grounded terrorist to drive him deeper into the asphalt. “Nothing can compare to what I endured. What I survived!” Cole froze slightly when the old man locked his gaze with him. “You and Kessler”, he spat enraged, “You are one and the same!”

“You've got some serious issues, you know that?” Cole snapped, creating more grenades. He lugged them at the golem's arm, where they exploded in powerful discharges. The light holding the arm together faded quickly, and parts of the outer armor simply dropped to the floor.

Giant black tentacles crushed through what remained of the golem's arm and ripped it apart. Mercer rose and slammed his concrete-like fists together. He was back in his eerie black armor, probably to fend of Alden's blows. His featureless face plate tilted towards Cole for a moment, just long enough for him to nod into his direction, before he pounced at the golem once more.

Cole saw Alden's face twist into anger, as he tried to attack Mercer with his construct's remaining arm. The courier acted immediately, shooting several ball lightnings at the limb, where the powerful electrical discharge blew apart the magnetic field holding the metal together. The golem, unbalanced by the sudden loss of its second arm, swayed to the side. Alden screeched, trying to hold the remaining construct together or summon the metal back, but all he could do was mentally trying to keep the pile of metal together.

Mercer used this moment to lunge to the front, smacking his shoulder into the giant construction to stagger it again, then he pulled his arms back. Cole saw tendrils crawling across his armor, seconds before Mercer slammed his flat palms to the front. Giant tentacles burst from his arms and slammed into Alden's golem with the force of a cannon blast.

The blow tore through the trash metal, ripped it apart like wet paper, and made the entire construction drop to the front. Alden swore and the golem reeled to the front, parts of it snagging the remaining suspension cable to prevent it from crashing into the floor, but the protective casing around the old man slid away.

The courier seized the chance. He rushed to the front, as close as the gap allowed him, and gathered all energy he had left in a single, powerful lightning bolt. The blow hit Alden right in the chest and literally smashed him backwards, while the discharge completely disrupted the field keeping the giant construction together.

Cole grinned darkly. Alden was done for.

* * *

 

Alex had quickly ducked behind his shield when the giant golem collapsed in a cacophony of bursting metal and roaring lightning, to avoid getting hit by stray rebar beams. He felt a little sad, actually, because a battle that demanded all of his power was a rare good. And, despite Alden being a single foe, he had claimed much out of both of them. The biggest problem to him had been the total lack of room to maneuver, while the metal offered quite a lot of defense against MacGrath's lightning. He had been surprised however, when the courier actually certified his suspicions about the real nature of this so-called telekinesis when the electrical fields he generated through his attacks took the golem apart. Alden hadn't been able to react fast enough, and in the end, his mental defenses had fallen, along with his construct.

A savage grin split his visage. Despite the old coot actually punching him through the air and having tried to flatten him into the ground, Alex had  _enjoyed_ the battle. His Biomass was coiling in hot curls beneath his skin, agitated and demanding to continue. It wasn't like pulping a tank like he believed and like it was with the other golem conduits. No, Alden was much harder to fight and that made it much more enjoyable. His psychical shield, the power he used to keep his construct together, was harder to crack than Greene's core hive. It was near impossible to get to Alden through  _physical_ means. In the end, all Alex could do was to keep bludgeoning away at the armor and let MacGrath's lightning do the trick, as it could bypass the shield and work from  _within_ . The Runner had even fired off two Devastators, both smaller and less costly than his Tendril Barrage, but now he felt like somebody had repeatedly punched him into the guts. His middle section hurt from the strain and the overall lack of Biomass, but it was a good hurting. After all, it had been such fun.

Though now- now he was hungry. And MacGrath did tell him to do whatever he wanted to do to Alden. Well, he could think of  _one_ thing. Plus...this was his first viable  _prime conduit_ . Even though he was aware he probably wouldn't get any powers out of it, it never hurt to try, correct?

He heard the crackle of the courier's thrusters as he let himself carried across the gap. He glared at Alex for a moment, then made his way to the shattered remains of the golem. He smacked a shockwave into the trash metal to unearth the old man sitting on the ground, swearing and howling about how Kessler stole his birthright. Alden was done for, his powers broken. He didn't had anything left going for him.

Now he was just a tired, crippled old man. Cole lunged at him and easily hoisted him up on his collar, pulling him close. Alden snarled and twisted his body, trying to break free, but the younger conduit was a lot stronger than him and his grip unbreakable.

“I'll kill you!” Alden howled out, “I'll kill all of you! Your thief of a friend! And that whore!”

MacGrath's body froze for a split second, moments before his eyes darkened. “Don't you dare talking about Trish like that!” He barked enraged in a tone that would have made  _Heller_ cower in a corner. He slammed him bodily into one of the pylons, hard enough to actually dent the metal. “Don't you fucking dare!”

Lightning was running across his body as he shifted his hold on Alden and pulled his right hand away to create his lightning blade. Alex frowned. He knew that posture and the expression on the younger one's face. He was going to kill the old man.  _Not yet._

Alex easily darted to the front and grabbed the younger man's wrist to stop his attempt at the old man's life. MacGrath's head snapped to him so he could glare at him in a mixture of rage and frustration.

“Don't”, Alex ground out. MacGrath tugged his arm uselessly, but Alex's hold was like steel. Unmovable. His eyes narrowed.

The courier scowled deep, turning his attention back to his captive. Alden's face had turned a paper-like white pallor, and there was sweat clinging to his temples. His eyes flicked between the energy blade in MacGrath's hand, his pissed expression and Alex's face. All the rage that had driven him was now gone, shattered like his golem. He was utterly at their mercy. And he  _knew_ it.

“Am I supposed to spare him?!” Cole snarled enraged, “ _Spare_ him?! He killed _thousands_! He nearly killed _us_! He nearly killed _Trish_!”

Alex shook his head. “I don't want you to spare him. I want you to  _think_ about it. Taking a life isn't easy, especially if the foe is at your  _mercy_ .”

“Alden deserves to die”, the younger hissed.

The Runner nodded and slowly let go of his arm. “If that is your decision, then go for it.” He flashed the young man a toothy grin. “Just make sure you'll leave his brain intact.”

MacGrath's expression instantly darkened once more and he whipped his head back to Alden, who had gone  _very_ pale. He lifted his blade again, and lightning arched out of his arm, shoulders and even eyes. He was ready and willing to kill.

“Stop!” Alden suddenly shrieked, throwing his hands out in front of him to protect himself if necessary. “Don-Don't kill me!”

MacGrath furrowed his brows, Alex snorted. One moment he threatened to kill all of them, the next he begs for mercy. He liked Blackwatch better in that regard- they stayed loyal to their creed till the end, no matter what they witnessed.

“I-I can help you!” Alden claimed.

MacGrath cocked his head and slowly lowered his blade. “Yeah? And what were you thinking about?”

“Kessler!” The old man squeaked, “I can help you kill Kessler. We can do it together! We can both have the revenge we want so much!”

MacGrath's eyes narrowed. “Sure”, he drawled out. “I'm going to trust you.” The energy blade fizzled off, just in time for MacGrath to lunge to the front and close his right hand over Alden's throat. “Fool me once- shame on you. Fool me twice- shame on me. Fool me thrice- And all bets are off.” His eyes darkened and there was a discharge all over his body. “I am  _through_ playing nice, Alden.”

He pulled him off the pylon and spun him around, holding him aloft without any problem. “No, Alden. You are going to die. Right here. Right  _now_ .” His expression turned sinister. “Mercer!”

Upon hearing his name, Alex grinned demonically. Like a shadow, he moved towards the two conduits, tendrils unfurling from his shoulders and chest. Alden struggled, tried to break free, but MacGrath held him tight. The old man pleaded, tried to beg for his life, but this quickly rose into a high-pitched scream when Alex's feeding tendrils burrowed into his back.

The old man struggled, kicked and tried to free himself, when Alex took hold of him. MacGrath stepped back, hatred and disgust clear on his face.

Well...can't be helped now.

Blacklight squirmed out of the Runner's body and into Alden's. Alex's eyes narrowed in concentration when more tentacles wrapped around his prey in order to immobilize him. The conduit's body was  _rejecting_ Blacklight to a degree. His immune system kicked into a frenzied overdrive, trying to drive the virus out. At that moment, Alex realized that a conduit would be completely  _immune_ towards Redlight.

But Blacklight wasn't Redlight. Alex snorted and with one mental command, the virus utterly crushed the opposing immune system to dust, and easily wormed its way into the victim's cells, flooding them with its deadly load.

Alden was still screaming, but now it was too late for him. Alex dragged everything that was Alden Tate into himself.

Memories were burnt into his mind in a painful snapping of neurones and new connections.

_Alden was the son of Richard Tate, and a gifted telekinetic. He was groomed to become to leader of the First Sons. When he was seven, however, a man appeared in their sanctum. His name was Kessler, and he usurped the throne meant for Alden with his incredible powers. That day, his childhood ended, and Alden grew up and grew old on the streets, hatred and loathing festering deep inside him, turning into a cold wrath that he nursed over decades._

_Alden had been in the Historic on that fateful day, he had wanted to meet with Kessler's ex-lover, Sasha, over plans to take him out. Then the bomb exploded- and both, him and her, gained powers._

Alex hissed and recoiled, keeping his palms pressed against his temples. Those new kind of memories always hurt, hurt more than the memories of the lowly grunts, because memories of leaders he paid more attention to instead of just shoving them into the back of his mind.

He grunted and pulled himself back upright once the flash had passed.

“And? What did you learn?” He turned his head slightly, glancing at MacGrath, who stood off to the side and glared at the remaining way over to the Historic.

Alex furrowed his brows, Alden's memories snapping back when his and MacGrath's eyes met. Kessler- Kessler had the same eyes, seventy years ago.

“Kessler took over seventy years ago”, Alex told him with a low grunt. Back then, Kessler had the same expression as Cole had now- the same determined scowl, the same blue glowing eyes...Alex furrowed his brows, because something was definitely _off_ about this. In Alden's memories, Kessler had looked _almost like Cole_ did now. Slightly older, more worn- but it was without question Cole's face. But it couldn't be- maybe there was something wrong with the way he consumed memories? Alex felt concerned, because it meant that his memories and Alden's melded with each other, leading to a twisted impression of Kessler's younger self. It was worrying as it never happened before, but right now, Alex had more important things to focus on.

MacGrath glanced at him. “Really? Shit, How old is he?”

“Should be around a century.”

Wonderful. And that old fart kicked our asses all the way into next week.”

“He has an agenda. A goal. He had followed it for seven decades now, Cole”, Alex explained. “He's not going to stop at anything to finish what he started.”

“It's going to be dangerous”, the courier growled. “But I'm ready. I can take him.”

“It's not only Kessler. The entire army of the First Sons are going to gather in the Historic District. And they are much better trained than the Reapers or the Dustmen- and they are better armed.”

“Let them come”, MacGrath growled. “Let them try. I will not let him get away. Not again.”

Alex smiled darkly. “Yes. Let them try. We will murder them. And then- then we will murder Kessler.”

 


	24. The Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For what it's wirth, I'm sorry it had to work out this way.

** The Price **

 

The fight against Alden had been extremely close to the Historic District- only a few yards, in fact- yet despite the obviously large amount of noise, nobody was around. The Freeway Bridge was to the north-west of the district and ran directly towards a larger park area. Cole had been there with Trish often, back when there weren't any First Sons or Dustmen or Reapers or conduits. Back when everything was still okay.

Cole was starting to move down the bridge when he froze. In front of him- partially hidden by the bay's fog, where two massive machine gun turrets turned into their direction. Without any sort of warning, they opened fire. Cole swore and immediately dove behind Mercer, whose arms easily changed into massive, chitinous shields. After Alden, his energy levels were too low to be able to survive this kind of weapon fire. Mercer grunted and subtly shifted his stance, ducking a bit lower to shield more of their bodies. He locked eyes with Cole for a moment, then nodded. Both men dove to the side, Mercer in the front to keep swallowing the bullets, while the younger remained behind him and away from the gunfire. A few seconds later, he suddenly lunged to the side, rushed into the opposite direction and too fast for the gunners to follow him, while lugging a single grenade into their direction. The blast was weak from the lack of energy Cole had, but it did make the two gunners jerk back startled.

It was just a second they weren't paying attention- but one second was more than enough for Mercer to take them. As Cole lowered his arms, he watched without any reaction how his ally ripped the two gunners to shreds and devoured them. There was a part of his brain that was still screaming at him how disgusting, how unnatural this was, that this thing had no right to exist and needed to be destroyed as quickly as possible- but the much larger part of him saw no harm in letting Mercer do whatever he wanted. After all, that guy was his ally, the  _only_ one who gave clear answers as well as didn't try to get the Ray Sphere for his own selfish agendas (Zeke flashed through Cole's mind and his stomach cramped painfully). If he needed to eat some fuckheads, then he could do so. Cole was through with playing nice.

If somebody wanted a piece of him now- they had to deal with the consequences.

Mercer pulled away and dusted himself off. “First Sons”, he declared.

“Anything to pay attention to?” Cole questioned. Shit, he was aware how _sick_ this was- his ally (only friend, possibly) fucking _ate_ people and learnt whatever they knew straight out of their brains. Once this was over, he was going to have nightmares about this. However, at the moment, it was extremely convenient and allowed them an unique view into the First Sons' tactics.

“When Kessler took over, he started to train them”, Mercer explained, “Put them through boot camp, drilled them.” He cocked his head. “And it's not 'just' boot camp. The First Sons are an _army._ They will follow Kessler, no matter what he tells them to do. They will burn themselves for their cause.”

“Wonderful”, Cole grumbled, “Nutjobs with army training.”

“In other words, be careful”, Mercer advised him. “They are trained to shoot and to _kill_ , and they have more weapons and more equipment than the Reapers and the Dustmen.” He glared at Cole with a tense expression. “And worse of all- they've been here for all these years, training, researching new weapons and stocking up what they had. All for _this_.”

“Wait- they've been working to prepare themselves to take over the city after the Blast?” The courier asked in surprise.

“They have been waiting for _you_ , Cole”, Mercer corrected. “This entire time they have been working to lead up to _this_. All of this-” He waved his arms, “The armies, the weapons, their scientific projects, fuck, even the truck that ran you over in the past- all had been for a single purpose- to kill you _after_ the Blast.”

Cole froze, and a tremor wrecked through his body. The air suddenly seemed colder than it had been before. “Why?!” He managed to grit out. “Why me? I am a  _bicycle courier_ , for God's sake. I dropped College!”

Mercer furrowed his brows. “I don't know”, he admitted. “The entire research, all the work the First Sons invested into- they never knew  _why_ . They never asked, either. They just  _did_ .”

Cole shook his head. “Screw this! What is so different about  _me_ ? What? Am I supposed to be some sort of Anti Christ?”

“I don't know”, Mercer replied slightly frustrated. “The _only_ one who knows is Kessler. _He_ is the one who made everything possible. But why, I can't tell.”

“Fucking Hell”, Cole groaned. “So he's what? My own personal stalker...who started stalking me _before_ my parents were even born?!”

He couldn't understand it. Honestly, all of this was a series of mindfucks. Kessler was planning to kill him, yet despite having had the possibilities, he hadn't done so yet. But  _why_ ? It made no sense.

Cole's brain lurched. The titan! The burning monster Kessler had shown him! It was obvious it was to blame for the destruction he'd seen... _wait..._

Was this the reason Kessler wanted him dead? Was  _this_ what was going to happen to him? Would he  _become_ this creature? Would it be  _him_ who would herald the end of the World? Cole froze. Was Kessler some sort of whacked-up prophet, who figured that he was the only one to stop the world from ending? Was this why he started this entire shit? To see whether he was right? To stop his prophecy from becoming true?

But then he should have killed him when he had the chance. Back on that roof. Plus the Ray Sphere- it gave him powers instead of killing him. Kessler didn't seem like the kind of person to make that kind of mistake.

Maybe...maybe he looked at it from the wrong angle? What if Kessler tried to  _make_ him into that monster? Maybe this was some fucked-up Doomsday cult, with this bullshit of 'The Old World has to die to bring forth the New one?'.

If  _that_ was the case, then tough luck. Kessler was a senile old idiot if he thought Cole would ever stoop so low as to become a world-destroying monster. Nope. No chance.

“Your phone.”

Cole blinked, pulling his mind back into the present. Damn, must have spaced out. He glanced at Mercer uncertainly. “What?”

“Your phone”, the terrorist repeated. “It's ringing.”

...He was right. Cole blinked again, before he finally answered his phone. “Yeah?”

“ _Cole, damnit. Thought you were done for.”_

“John?”

“ _Yes, John”_ , the agent sighed. _“You didn't answer your phone, thought something happened to you.”_

“No...I just kind of spaced out”, Cole admitted. “Have a lot on my plate, need to clear it out.”

“ _Sorry to hear that, kid_ ”, John fell silent for a moment. _“I couldn't help but notice that the golem's gone. What happened to Alden?”_

The courier glanced at Alex, who was watching the area around them. “He's dead”, he eventually said.

“ _Are you sure?”_

He snorted. “Yeah. Pretty sure.”

“ _I'm taking your word for it, then.”_ The agent cleared his throat. _“Now that Alden's out of the picture, I think it's time to move against Kessler.”_

Cole's attention instantly shifted. “I'm listening.”

“ _There's a little problem, though. He's got you pinned there in the Historic District.”_

“I'm aware”, Cole replied, glancing back at the broken bridge behind them.

“ _Head over to the 19_ _th_ _Street Drawbridge”_ , John instructed. _“And open it. That way you have an escape route if things go haywire.”_

“Where are you going to be?” He was unwilling to accept he wouldn't know where the other was. After that mess at Alden's Tower, he would like to keep an eye for his allies.

“ _I'll be there when you need me”_ , the agent promised.

Cole scoffed in reply. “Heard that one before.” He ended the call and eyed his other ally. “Got that?”

“Yeah.”

“Think you can fix a bridge?”

“I can try. I did watch those two engineers back in the Warren”, Mercer shrugged. “However, I am not too sure. Let's check it out first, I can later still decide whether I go and get these guys over to fix it.”

Cole glanced back. He eyed the Historic District, watched how the shadows kept creeping around. He felt eyes watching them- many eyes. First Sons, probably, and civilians too. He could taste the fear and desperation in the air, and it made his back crawl.

They had to stop Kessler.

* * *

 

Most of the Historic District was without energy. No problem, the bridge and the shore line were supplied through the Warren anyways.

But Alex still didn't like it. He could smell blood all over the place. Old blood, fresh blood, and dead bodies. Nobody dared to venture outside after dark, but they still watched from behind barred windows with weary eyes.

Memories stirred inside him, memories he hoped had been buried after they left Manhattan behind for good.

The Historic District was similar. It had been nineteen days after the Blast, nineteen days for the First Sons to take over and terrorize the people. He had  _seen_ what they did in the memories of the two men he just consumed, and his irritation quickly turned into rage.

From the military training and weapons, over their tactics and equipment, to their creed and even uniform appearance with those gas masks- the First Sons reminded him of Blackwatch. And his old fear began to rear its ugly head.

_No_ . He shook his head. These fucks  _weren't_ Blackwatch. They were just a bunch of fanatic cultists crowded around a single, powerful conduit. 

However, this didn't meant they were any less dangerous. Alex could feel it in his bones. Shit was going to hit the fan big time in the near future. Judging from the look on the courier's face, he was thinking something similar.

Dana needed to know.

Alex pulled his phone from his pocket and was about to switch it on, when he paused in surprise.

“Fuck”

MacGrath had noticed it and stopped as well, glancing at him. “Any problems?”

“Phone's dead”, the Runner replied with a grunt. He dangled the remains of it from his pinched fingers. It was shorn to pieces, the edges were burnt and much of the internal components had been melted to a slag.

“Oh”, MacGrath frowned. “How did this happen?”

“Kessler”, Alex growled, and tendrils rushed along his body. “When he attacked me.” The lightning blade had torn clear through his body, and, on its way, had destroyed his phone as well. It _might_ have been a coincidence, but Alex didn't believe in it.

And Kessler  _did_ have powers just like Cole, right? And, as far as he'd seen, MacGrath was able to locate a source of electricity. It was possible Kessler could do so too. Though what for?

_To render you deaf._

The sense of panic returned to him with a vengeance and made his entire body writhe beneath its surface. Without the phone, Dana would have troubles contacting him.  _If_ something happened, she would waste precious time.

“Fuck”, he growled again, then whipped around to the courier. “I do _not_ like this”, he grated, then picked up his speed to reach the 19 th Street Drawbridge. “Hurry!”

To give him credit, MacGrath did not ask what was going on. He seemed to be aware of the complications the broken phone brought with them. So he just nodded once and quickly followed after the Runner.

The silence and lack of opposition worried Alex. He could smell the First Sons, he knew they were there- yet they were content with only watching them.

Waiting for them to become careless.

MacGrath noticed them too, if his tense posture meant anything. However, the First Sons didn't attack them yet. They were able to reach the bridge with no trouble at all. Alex glanced over his shoulder to glare at the hidden Sons, then turned to the courier. “I'm going to check the bridge”, he told him. “Watch my back.”

“On it.”

Alex scanned the bridge carefully, his sharp eyes easily picking up whatever crack he could see. The street lanes were too badly damaged to allow vehicles passage, but pedestrians would be able to cross with no problem. The structure seemed to be in one piece, if a little bit damaged, though it would be able to carry enough weight.

He went to the control panels and tapped a few buttons. His eyes gleamed.

“As far I can tell, the systems are okay”, he told his companion. “All that's missing is to power up the control panels. They're being fed through the substations that haven't been activated yet.”

“Ah. Looks like my job then”, MacGrath replied. “Alright. Just make sure these bastards don't put a bullet in my back in the meantime.”

He headed to the street lights first to drain them. Alex remembered the grenade he used back at the bridge had been weaker, and mostly just light and noise with barely any power. It appeared fighting Alden harshly drained the younger man's reserves, and Alex understood. After two Devastators and only three humans for refill, he didn't feel too hot either. He would need to consume soon enough.

For the moment though, he was content with what he had. He crossed his arms and stood in the middle of the street to stop whoever was going to come at them. He heard the lightning crackle behind him, and saw the light snap harshly through the darkness, creating ever-changing shadows across the street and walls.

The bridge groaned and started moving, lowering itself inch by inch amidst sharply creaking protests. With a hollow  _Crack_ the two sides joined across the bay, allowing for passage.

“Okay”, MacGrath called out as he stepped back. “Bridge is open. What now?” He paused, then glanced at Alex. “Hey, you know where the Ray Sphere is? Or maybe their main labs?”

The Runner shook his head. “Sadly, no.”

“Uh...Why?”

“Kessler made _really_ sure the guys he's using for cannon fodder have all the training and none of the important information.” He furrowed his brows. “I think the stronger Sons and their commanders know more, though Kessler's keeping them back. I can't help but think that he somehow _knows_ about me.” Alex paused, then shook his head with a curse on his lips. “Fuck. Of course he knows. Pretty sure he knew longer than Moya.”

“Yeah”, MacGrath echoed. “And judging from the way he stomped you into the ground at Alden's Tower, I'd say without the surprise effect we're pretty much boned.”

“Don't remind me”, Alex growled. He really did not want to remember that a mere _human_ had taken out ZEUS in an almost ridiculously easy way. He wasn't so sure _when_ exactly he had started to become that vain, but it was probably because people usually got very dead when facing him.

The younger cleared his throat. “Sorry about that.”

“Don't be”, Alex replied somewhat gruff. “I just wasn't prepared. Had been a while since a _human_ kicked my ass.” But Kessler wasn't Cross. Cross only had his training and his weapons, Kessler had powers. In retrospect, he should have been more careful. Hell, Alden's telekinetic shield offered more resistance than a fucking Hive, damnit. Only because it was easy subduing MacGrath back on that roof (something he only managed because the younger wasn't used to his powers yet), didn't mean all prime conduits would have gone down the same way.

He had to realize he had let himself go. Three years of hiding hadn't done wonders for his abilities. He had been stagnant, hadn't evolved any more. He wasn't any tougher than he'd been in Manhattan, he wasn't any stronger, any faster, didn't gain new mutations.

No. Ever since he got Heller out of Manhattan and finally killed his own 'son' and Pariah, he had become too arrogant about his own abilities. Nothing had been able to stop him, and that made him careless. Kessler had showed him just how  _wrong_ he'd been.

He couldn't risk it anymore. He had to play it safe- strike hard and  _fast_ and make sure that bastard wouldn't get up again the next time they saw each other.

“ _I see. You think you have a chance to escape, do you?”_ The gravely voice that came from the toll screen just above the control panel MacGrath just fixed, made both men swear and swing around, ready to beat the living Hell out of whoever startled them. Kessler's face glared at them from the screen. There wasn't anything on his expression that told them what he was thinking. _“At any rate, you killed Alden, did you? Good, spares me from having to do that.”_

“Date and Location, asshead”, MacGrath spat enraged, “And we'll be there.” Alex snarled in reply, and his arms twisted into his claws.

Kessler only leaned back, blue glowing eyes resting on them as his brows drew together in what appeared to be disappointment.  _“Our time together is drawing to a close, Cole”_ , the old man hissed. Alex could see the younger conduit scowl hatefully at the old man.

“What do you want?!”

“ _You still aren't ready for what is going to come”_ , Kessler sneered. _“So I decided to accelerate things.”_ His eyes narrowed, and Alex felt his back bristle. _“Evolve or die, as they say. Shall we begin?”_

A building nearby exploded in a shower of brick and mortar and two dozens First Sons suddenly rushed towards them. Alex growled and instantly shifted to his Armor at the sight of the rocket launchers and anti-materiel rifles these fucks were carrying. He seriously did not have enough Biomass for this. A single Son to the side drew his attention for a moment. The man was lankier and taller than his companions, stood hunched-over and had different equipment.

Alex snarled, and his face plate twisted his voice into a deep echoing growl. “MacGrath!” He snapped, then pointed one claw at the single Son. “Conduit. You take him.” His claws melted and turned into steel-like gray skin that stretched over massive muscles. “I take the others.”

“Deal” MacGrath lunged towards the conduit with lightning flashing out of his arms, Alex faced the First Sons and slammed his fists together. He kicked off the ground and pounced at them. If facing a troop armed with high explosives, it was better to take them close up. He learnt that very quick inside Blackwatch Bases when he accidentally triggered the alert and tons of Blackwatch stormed the building, armed with rocket launchers.

This also meant he knew  _exactly_ how to deal with the First Sons. Alex's armor hampered his movement greatly, but he was still fast enough to reach the men before they could react. He dropped right into their group and swung his fists down. The force of them hitting the floor caved in a massive section of the ground. And human tissues are much more fragile than asphalt.

The shockwave he caused with his punch raced outwards, and not only cracked the street, but also displaced a lot of air in a very short amount of time. Oh, it wasn't harmful to  _Alex_ \- after all, he didn't need to breathe, but compressed air could be like a sledge hammer. Only it was an invisible hammer that was all around him, going into every direction  _really_ fast.

The effect was  _instantaneous_ .

The First Sons closest to him more or less stopped existing in one solid shape. Bones snapped like twigs under Alex's blow, muscles and organs tore like wet paper. More solid parts- like the hips- did manage to stay together, even if barely. Everything else was splattered. Not exactly the prettiest of sights, but Hell if it wasn't effective. The group of First Sons had been utterly eradicated before they could have given off a single shot. Those that weren't flattened by his initial blow were lying to the sides, but weren't moving anymore. Their weapons were in varying states of completeness as well- those closest to him were utterly bent and broken, those further away remained in a good state. He would have to remove them later on.

Alex's armor sank back into his body, just as his tendrils rose from his flesh and started snaking along the ground, connecting to every bit of First Sons remains and consume it. It wasn't his preferred way to gain Biomass, as it forced him to stay still for  _too_ long to reach every bit. Plus, brain tissue was very fragile, and even in the guys that managed to keep their solid shape, it would be destroyed.

Oh well. No information for him, but at least he would get Biomass to last him for the next weeks. Or the next hours if they would run into Kessler.

Lightning cracked behind his back, drawing his attention. Alex was slightly worried MacGrath would be in over his head, like the first time they faced a golem. He paused at the sight before him.

The First Sons conduit was there- floating several feet off the ground inside a purplish-white aura shaped like a two-story tall version of his own body. The conduits swung his fist downwards, intending to smash MacGrath, who nimbly dodged to the side. It appeared the increased size of the conduit's 'Aura' also increased his physical strength by the same factor, making them essentially stronger.

But not much faster. The courier easily outsped his foe and quickly mounted one of the supports of the bridge. Then he started firing bolts of electricity into the conduit. The giant ducked, grunting in exertion, then suddenly flung his arm out to create a gust-like shockwave. MacGrath avoided it easily enough, then aimed his lightning again, this time closer to the conduit inside the aura. The ball lightning smashed hard into the Sons' conduit and ripped him right out of his aura, sending him tumbling to the ground. The man groaned in pain and tried to climb back to his feet, when MacGrath hopped off his perch and sauntered over to his fallen foe. He threw a glance at Alex, who simply shrugged as the last of his tendrils pulled back into his skin. If the lesser conduits of the Reapers and Dustmen _and_ _Alden himself_ weren't going to give him powers, then a First Sons conduit wouldn't either.

Satisfied with the reply, the courier stomped down on the man's chest and aimed his hand at him. A single lightning bolt sprang from his palm and hit the other conduit's skull, killing him instantly.

“ _Ah. Good. I see you understand what it means to have no mercy”_ , Kessler's voice droned from the screen. MacGrath turned to snarl at the other man, while Alex's eyes narrowed on the traffic camera just atop a street lamp. _“Mercy is for the weak, Cole. You make only one wrong decision, and everything is going to fall apart.”_

Alex snorted and threw his Whipfist to the front, tearing through the small camera. Kessler frowned slightly.  _“You think this will accomplish anything, Mercer?”_ , he questioned.

“Just made me feel better”, the Runner admitted. “I don't like you watching.”

“ _Ah. But perhaps you should listen then”_ , Kessler's lips twitched up in a mock grin. _“This is a valuable lesson. A lesson of...timing and consequences.”_ He leaned back and steepled his fingers. _“I have planted a series of bombs all over the city, Cole. Each is on a timer. Fail to disarm one, and the consequences are going to be dire.”_

“Bastard!” Cole spat.

“ _I am aware”_ , Kessler replied dryly. _“Though I am not heartless. You have the GPS coordinates on your phone. Clock's ticking.”_

Alex hissed hatefully, his back bristled with countless tendrils. MacGrath swore and tapped his phone. “Shit!” He snapped. “Come on-” He cut himself off with a snort. “There it is. Hurry!”

He started running, Alex followed after him with his brows drawn together.

Was Kessler really serious about this? If those bombs exploded, then it would be obvious that Moya lost control. And then they were going to invade the city, declare martial law and simply shoot everybody down. Was Kessler willing to invite  _that_ ?

The answer was  _Yes_ . 

Something drove the man, something that had to do with Cole. And he was so desperate for it, he even risked the security of the entire city. Somehow, it was only all too familiar- Doctor Mercer had been the same.

“There!” MacGrath snapped when they rushed towards a large rectangle that had several wires and screens attached to it. They saw a field of electricity keeping a few people captive. As they drew closer, several First Sons tried to cut them off, amongst them one of those conduits too.

“I got them!” Alex growled, arms shifting to his claws already, “You make sure the bomb is defused!”

“On it!” The courier rushed past him and the First Sons, while Alex dove directly at the opposition. He saw lightning arch up behind them and instantly got to work. His claws easily ripped through the normal Sons, even as he effortlessly dodged the attempts of the aura giant to smash him into the ground.

Blacklight was simply stronger than that. Within moments, Alex had easily dispatched of most of the First Sons and rushed towards the giant now. The conduit flung a shockwave at him, which the Runner avoided by jumping upwards. In one smooth motion, his one claw melted and turned into his massive Blade. It was better for large targets anyways.

He hit the aura giant with full force, causing it to glow red for a second before it simply blinked out of existence. The sudden lack of resistance sent Alex hurling towards the ground, where his Blade sank into the street with a hollow shriek of metal on stone. The conduit hit the asphalt just besides the Runner in a heap. Alex snorted and ripped his weapon free, then snatched the man's throat with his free claw to hold him aloft. The conduit whimpered and tried clawing at the talon, but Alex easily ignored it.

MacGrath approached them, dusting off his hands. “Drained the electricity”, he declared, “Killed the bomb that way. People are gone.” He glared at the First Son. “What's your boss planning?”

“I won't tell you anything!”, the conduit snapped back, trying to wriggle free. Alex simply closed his claw some more to cut off his oxygen-and-blood supply to the brain. He leaned closer to the man, lips parting away from his all too sharp teeth.

“You won't need to tell us anything. I can do that just fine.”

“ _Cole?! Cole?! Damnit! Pick up!”_

Both men froze at the static shriek of a female voice from the courier's phone.  _Dana!_

“Dana?” MacGrath queried, confusion taking over all anger in his voice, “Is that you?”

“ _Fuck yes!”_ Alex noticed the tremor in his sister's voice. _“Shit, Alex doesn't answer his phone!”_

“It's broken”, the Runner supplied from the side, “Don't worry ab-”

“ _They got Trish!”_

Both men's eyes widened.

“What?!”

“ _They took Trish!”_ , Dana shouted, _“That old guy with the trench coat was suddenly there!”_ Dana's voice was shaking badly. _“Oh God. I couldn't stop him.”_

She was close to tears, Alex realized. MacGrath was trembling badly. “Dana!” Alex ordered in a clear voice. “When did that happen?!”

“ _I don't know”_ , his sister sounded like she was fighting to keep her voice even. _“He smashed Harms and me into a wall, and we passed out. I woke up a few moments ago, but Harms's still out cold!”_

“Fuck!”

“ _I couldn't stop him”_ , Dana repeated with a sob. _“I couldn't stop him”_

“Dana- that fuck fried _me_. You're lucky you're still alive.”

“ _But Trish's gone”_

Alex's head snapped up to Cole, who had gone  _very_ pale. “Shit.” The Runner turned to his captive, and without wasting another moment, slammed his tentacles straight into the man's skull, rupturing the bone casing and devouring the brain beneath.

Terror started to claw its way through his chest. An entirely human reaction to what he saw. The mangled corpse dropped from his hold with a wet  _slap_ .

“Cole!” He snapped slightly louder than he intended. “It's true! Kessler has Trish!”

The courier immediately jumped into a panicky overdrive- his heart rate spiked and his respiration picked up. “Where? Where has he taken her?!”

“The Twin Peaks”, Alex told him. “There are bombs there too. Kessler wants to kill Trish!”

“Shit!” MacGrath swung around, ripping his phone off his bag. “You take the other bombs, Alex- you are faster”, he shouted, already rushing away from him. Alex hissed and threw a quick glance at the phone and the marked destinations, then pounced off the ground and headed to the closest bomb. He couldn't care for anything else. There was no time left. 

* * *

 

Cole's lungs were burning, his muscles were screaming in pain. He was running along the roofs of the Historic District as fast as somehow possible- but he wasn't  _fast enough_ .

Trish needed him. She needed him  _now_ . And he was  _too_ slow!

Twin Peaks- he knew where that was. It were two eight-story towers across the wide street from each other in the middle of the Historic. He needed to cross First Sons territory to get there, but he couldn't really pay attention to what was around him. He had to get to Trish!

His heart was slamming painfully against his ribs, and his vision blurred out of focus. He knew he was overexerting himself- after all, a tower had dropped on him before, he just fought Alden Tate and was now running through the entire Historic, while fear and panic tore his brain to shreds. If he pushed himself any more, his system would probably collapse.

But Cole could not slow down. He could not take a break.

With a snarl, he catapulted his body upwards with his thrusters to soar through the sky. He tried pushing himself to go even faster, but he knew there was a limit. He just hoped he wouldn't be too late as he lunged across a gap between two buildings.

An invisible shockwave hit him right in the chest and threw him brutally off course. Cole flailed through the air and hit the asphalt of a parking lot hard. He hissed and twisted his body, fighting back upright, just in time to witness an aura conduit closing in on him.

The giant was too close, and there was no room to maneuver, so Cole swore and lunged to the front, diving between the other conduit's legs to get behind him and barely avoiding a brutal punch thrown in his general direction. The ground where his head had been just a moment before was caved in completely, and the tremor ran through the floor. It wasn't enough to make him stumble, though. Cole rushed further away, then hopped upwards to cling to a fire escape and pull himself up. The giant swung around and smashed his arm into the building, tearing through the metal stairs, missing the courier. Cole swore, knowing fully well that he wouldn't be able to get to Trish with that freak on his ass. He whipped back to face his foe and crouched down on the destroyed stairwell. Lightning arched around him, snapping outwards in ghastly flashes.

_Electromagnetism. Is the attracting and repelling of metal._

Static electricity ran through the crushed remains of the fire escape, pushing against Cole's own charge, just as a pair of lightning blades formed around his wrists. The courier let go, and the two different charges repelled each other in a violent manner, catapulting the young man to the front.

Cole collided with the aura of the other conduit, and broke through it with his blade's help without any resistance. His lethal weapons sliced through the First Son's chest, killing him instantly.

The giant collapsed and faded into nothingness as Cole hit the ground in a roll. Without slowing down, he instantly jumped back to his feet and continued his race through the Historic.

This bastard took too much of his time, damnit. He could already be too late! His heart started slamming madly against his chest, and his breaths turned into panicking chokes of air.

_No_ . He couldn't think like that. He wasn't too late. He could still make it.

_Trish!_

Cole's feet slammed hard against the street as he dashed around a corner. There! Just in front of him, two more blocks further down the road- the Twin Peaks.

Despite his lungs and legs burning, the courier sped up some more.

“Collllleeeeeeeee!!” His feet skidded to a stop at the sound of Trish's voice. His head snapped up, eyes narrowing on the tiny shape hanging from the roof of the right Peaks building. His heart stopped in terror. There was Trish- suspended from the edge and dangling over the drop, tied only to a thin rope. Even from down there, Cole could see the fear in her eyes.

He instantly started to hurry to climb the tower, when a static shriek stopped him dead in his tracks.

“ _Ah. As I suspected. You're letting Mercer do your dirty work”_ , Kessler's voice sneered from some hidden loud speakers. _“Congratulations on letting others do your job.”_

“Let her go!” Cole roared enraged, “Leave Trish alone!”

“ _No. Every person has a role to play. Even Trish. That's why she's up there.”_

“You bastard!” Cole howled, lightning snapping out of his body. “Why are you doing this?!”

“ _Because you do not understand. I don't expect you to. But someday you will. And then you will thank me.”_

“Trish!” The courier decided to not play along anymore and was about to climb the building anyway, when he heard Kessler's disapproving snort.

“ _Ah-ah, Cole. Aren't you a bit too hasty? Look to the left roof. What do you see?”_

The young man froze, blood turning to ice inside his veins. There were more people, all of them suspended from the other tower.

“ _You have to decide, Cole”_ , Kessler taunted, _“One tower- Trish. The love of your life. The other- six doctors. Think of all the good they'll do. The thousands of lives they'll save. What is more important? One life? Or many lives?”_

Icy sweat ran down Cole's spine, as his eyes flicked helplessly between Trish and the six doctors.  _“Bombs are attached to each platform. You have time to save one, but not both. Decide, Cole”_ , Kessler repeated,  _“If you take too long, both bombs will go off, and all seven are going to die.”_

That bastard! That fucking bastard!

Cole stepped back in horror, staring at Trish. His heart screamed at him to forget about the six strangers, to get up there and rescue Trish. He loved her, with every ounce of his soul. He didn't want to lose her.

But he couldn't knowingly doom six innocent civilians just for his own selfish goals. No...he couldn't leave the doctors to die. If he did, he would never be able to look into Trish's eyes again. He would never be able to look at himself again.

His fists clenched at his sides as he struggled with the answer. But what if...

His head snapped up. “Trish!” He shouted, “Keep calm! Whatever happens,  _do not panic_ , okay?!”

“Cole?!”

“Trish- I can not kill the other guys. I can't do it. But I promise- I _won't let you fall_! I'll free you! I won't let you die!”

He could see his girlfriend tremble, he could see the tears in her eyes. And still, she nodded. “Hurry, Cole!”

The courier swung to the side and rushed across the street to climb the left tower. He couldn't knowingly doom these six people. He couldn't do it. But every inch he climbed upwards, his heart screamed only louder at him, to leave them. To get Trish. He was panting in panic, his fingers were trembling, and still, he continued his way steadily upwards.

“ _I wish there was some other way”_ , Kessler lamented, his voice suddenly sounding defeated and _older_ than it did before. _“That Trish didn't have to die. She's such a special person. But in times of war, of crisis, one must learn to ignore their feelings and do what benefits the whole, not the individual.”_

“SHUT UP!” Cole bellowed, tears trickling at the corners of his eyes. “SHUT THE FUCK UP! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!”

“ _Yes. I am expecting it, Cole”_ , Kessler admitted. Then there was suddenly silence, with only his own blood roaring in his ears. He could do it. He could save all of them.

He mounted the Twin Peak tower in a record time, his breathing was short and near hyperventilation when he finally pulled himself over the edge. He saw the bomb in front of him, and lifted his hand, draining the power from it.

Killing the explosive. Making it harmless.

He didn't wait to pull the doctors to safety, though. As he killed the first bomb, the second exploded with an ear-shattering crack. Trish screamed his name.

Cole flung his body off the roof and across the street. He knew it would be nearly impossible, he knew how dangerous it was for both of them, but he wasn't going to let her fall.

He was not going to lose Trish.

Lightning arched out of his body and trailed after him as he dove at an angle, trying to aim for the plummeting shape of his lover. He activated his thrusters, speeding up some more, but time was crawling as they both raced towards the street. His outstretched fingers brushed her. Just a little more-

They both slammed into the ground. Ironically, the fall that killed Trish was  _too short_ for him to actually catch her. Cole's world faded out in a white-hot flash of pain as his body crushed into the unforgiving floor. He felt several bones snap from the force of the impact. His teeth rattled and his brain smacked hard against the inside of his skull. His vision turned black, but every nerve was screaming at him as his body continued to roll over the street from his own momentum.

He hit the base of the Twin Peak, where he came to an abrupt stop. He gasped in pain and instantly struggled to his feet, spinning back around to find Trish. His vision slipped back out of focus, flipping his entire world upside-down. He swore and pitched to the side, retching as he threw up a glop of blood and tissues.  _Shit_ . Felt like a rib pierced his lung.

_Trish!_

She wasn't moving, and there was too much red around her, spreading from her skull like a halo.

Cole struggled over to her, dropping to his knees and instantly placed his hand against her chest. He focused every bit of his powers, tried to put everything he had into her. Tried to fix her body.

Trish choked once, and her eyes slipped open. “Hey there”, she slurred.

“Don't talk”, Cole whispered harshly. “I can-I can fix you.” He increased his energy output, focusing on her, even as there was darkness creeping into the edges of his vision. He couldn't let her die. Even if it harmed him- he wouldn't let her die here.

“You did good”, Trish muttered.

“I didn't!” Cole snapped, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I couldn't catch you!”

“You saved the others”, she replied with a faint voice. “You saved so many.”

Cole shoved his hand beneath her head, feeling the sticky mass at the back of her skull- and focused his energy there.

“I can heal you-” he choked.

“You can't”, she replied, her eyes slowly turning glassy. “Too many internal injuries.”

“No! I am not going to lose you!” Cole barked panicking. “Trish! I'm not going to let you die!”

“You can't”, she answered, and her voice became inarticulate. “And I'm going to Amy now. To mom and dad.” There was a tremor running through her body as she forced a shuddering breath. “I'm proud of you, Cole.”

“No- Trish- Don't!” Cole screamed. “Don't do this to me!”

“I love you, Cole”, Trish muttered. “I love you- so very much.”

“Trish! Trish!” He tried to increase the the rate of healing. He couldn't lose her. Not here. Not like this.

“Trish!” Her body slumped. He saw her eyes fogging over, and his lightning tapering off. Without any effect.

“No! Trish!” He charged up again, but nothing happened. His powers didn't react to her any longer. Cole was choking back the tears, trying to do _something_ to help her. He cradled her body closer to his, feeling her broken bones grind against each other as her head rolled back limply.

There wasn't any spark of energy left in her.

Cole howled out.  _**“TRISHHHHHH!!!”** _

 


	25. Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

**Vengeance**

 

The aura conduit and the dozen First Sons couldn't slow Alex down. Seconds after they attempted to stop him, his Whipfist whistled sharply through the air and slammed hard into the metal casing of the bomb, rendering the thing to little more than trash metal. The captive people fled the scene as soon the energy field died along with the timer.

Alex didn't care. He was aware they've seen him, that they have seen his normal attire and his weapons, that they were witnesses to his powers- but he just didn't care anymore.

If Blackwatch was going to come here, then he would stop them and kill all of them. He wouldn't hide any longer.

However... he glanced at the civilians he just saved- they stood somewhere down the street and stared at him with wide eyes, seemingly uncertain whether to go over to him and thank him or run away screaming since they got a first-row show of how he really dealt with his foes. No matter what they were going to do, Alex didn't think they actually  _knew_ who he was. If they did, then they surprisingly didn't give a fuck.

Maybe it was because they saw him work to  _save_ them? That would be a first. In Manhattan, in Miami, in every other place he'd been, Alex never met humans that didn't scream and run when they realized who he was. But then again, in the past, he never bothered helping people  _directly_ . He took out crime cartels and drug lords, all with only their own mooks and dead men to watch. Here, in Empire, he was forced to stand in the light and have civilians look on in horror as he tore those fucks to shreds.

In a way, he was just like Moya and Blackwatch. A  _coward_ who hid in the dark. But unlike them, Alex had a solid reason. He wasn't even remotely human. He hid because mankind wasn't supposed to know what he was. Ever since Manhattan, he deceived them, made them see things that weren't true. But what for?

He wasn't human, learnt he never  _wanted_ to be human- so why did he hide as one? The answer was- because he wanted to be more than what he was. He wanted to know what it meant to be human, without even being one. Maybe it was another design flaw he had- but Alex  _craved_ human contact. Even though he fully knew he would never be one, that they would always be prey to him, he wanted to be able to live along with them. He didn't know  _why_ , since most humans were sacks of shit, but there were also some that deserved his respect. Like Dana, like Cross, like Ragland, like Heller. Like MacGrath.

And respect went both ways- if he wanted them to accept him, he had to give them reason to. Like taking down these bombs to rescue all the people the First Sons captured.

Alex lunged off the ground and headed to the east. His body was moving too fast for anyone to see anything other than a blur as he made his way to the next bomb. He didn't like most humans, but he also baulked against the idea of knowingly murdering people through neglect. And MacGrath was right- the Runner  _was_ the only one who was able to reach the bombs in time, even though they had been placed all throughout the Historic District- and the clock was ticking.

He was aware of the technology behind these things- they had two timers, and a proximity alert. If anybody came close to the thing, the secondary countdown would be started, leaving whoever came closer only a short amount of time to disable the weapon. If one was shut off, the next one would be activated.

Good thing taking them out wasn't as complicated as hacking into a viral scanner. A simple Whipfist swing targeted at the main body of the bomb destroyed the entire charge inside and rendered the explosives useless.

He found the next charge near the park, and, as always, several First Sons around to protect it. Alex jumped back to the ground and pulled his Whipfist back. The men noticed him and instantly took their positions to shoot at him. He let go in that moment, letting his Whipfist lash out in front of him in a half-circle. The First Sons never got to fire off their weapons when the lethal organic weapon sliced through them at the hip, toppling all of them into a bloody heap. He let the momentum pull him around, and his claw hit the bomb next, ripping through the material until it was embedded halfway in. Alex yanked his arm back, and the electronics fizzled off. The hostages stared at the Runner with wide, fearful eyes. He glared back, before thrusting his head over his shoulder. “Get away and lie low”, he instructed. “Make sure these bastards don't get you again.” The people fled, and Alex pulled the phone out to check it. There were no more bombs left...if Kessler really marked all of them.

But then again, why should he have marked them at all? If he wanted them out of the way, then why tell them where he hid the explosives?

It wasn't to actually kill the people...Alex furrowed his brows. Kessler  _was_ aware of him, so he was aware of his ability to get information right out of somebody's skull. Yet he didn't bother hiding his tracks.

That meant he just wanted to separate the two of them, to make sure Alex couldn't be anywhere  _near_ MacGrath. And that meant he had been walking straight into a trap.

Alex spun around and pushed off the ground to head back towards the Twin Peaks. He had no doubts that MacGrath would be able to handle anything that was thrown at him, but there was a strange dull sensation in his middle, like a bad feeling. He had wasted too much time with the bombs already, he had to get back and find the courier.

He barely arrived within a one-mile radius of the Twin Peaks, when he heard a howl of pure anguish echo through the entirety of the Historic. Alex instantly recognized the voice. Something had happened.

He picked up his speed and tore through the streets, faster than any car would be able to go, when his senses picked up the smell of blood. Too much  _familiar_ blood. Alex stopped abruptly, body going rigid. He didn't know what that feeling was that was crawling in icy coils through his stomach. All he knew was that he was  _too late_ .

“Fuck!” Alex sped up again. _Too late too late. She's dead, too late, Mercer_ , echoed through his head. He wouldn't have believed that Kessler would go so far as to...no, he hadn't thought it would end this way.

“Cole!” He snapped as he rushed around the corner, his sharp eyes taking in the scene in front of him. The courier sat at the base of the tower, cradling his lover's limp shape in his arms and wept. His shoulders were trembling violently and his bones rattled with every choking sob he uttered. Alex could smell the blood, its sharp metallic odor stung in his nose, and he could hear the courier's broken whispers. _Trish. I'm so sorry. I couldn't catch you._

As he was a virus, he had no vital organs, or even emotions, but the part of him that craved to be human realized how painful it was. He realized how much the other must have been hurting, realized that he just lost  _everything_ . 

Cole didn't acknowledge Alex's presence, even as the Runner drew closer. Alex saw several more people hanging overhead, swaying softly in the breeze, but didn't pay any attention to them. Instead, he exhaled and stepped up to stand besides Cole, eyes taking inventory of the dead woman's injuries. A short glance upwards to the broken rope dangling from the roof was enough to tell him what happened: Kessler dropped her off the building, killing her. Cole must have jumped after her, disregarding his own safety, but ultimately failing to protect her. Instead, his own body had suffered injuries that were currently repairing themselves. However, those abilities weren't able to save Trish.

The Runner reached out a tentative hand, pausing for a moment in mid-air, before he slowly placed it on Cole's shoulder. The man flinched once, but didn't move otherwise.

“Cole. I'm here”, Alex said, hopefully soothing. He felt awkward, because this wasn't what he was used dealing with. He could easily carve a bloody swathe through his enemies, could easily ignore the fact that they too had lovers, children, spouses, parents and friends that would never see them again. But he had never experienced loss from _their_ angle. 

He knew Trish. She had been a good friend, and had always been friendly towards him, and even after figuring out he wasn't just a dog she was supposed to look after, she always tried to tone things down. He trusted her. Losing her was painful.

He stepped around and crouched down in front of the courier, watching him carefully. The younger man cradled the body closer to his chest, his sobs taking on a more subdued nature.

“He-” Cole whispered, fighting to keep his voice from cracking (and losing) “He- Kessler- he made- made me choose.”

Alex's head snapped back upwards to where the other guys were hanging. He could see their wide eyes, staring down at them in disbelief and terror. His lips pulled away in a snarl.

_Kessler!_ Fucker had forced MacGrath to decide- rescue a large number of unknown strangers, or rescue the single woman he loved- knowing fully well that the young man would have tried to save  _all_ of them.

“She's dead”, the courier wept, “And I killed her” He choked once, then lifted his face to stare at Alex. The Runner was taken back by the pain on the other's face, the raw emotions. MacGrath never showed anything other than anger, and seeing this- this made Alex's rage about the First Sons increase, as well as jamming an icy spear through his chest.

The courier sobbed once and buried his face back against Trish's head, tremors running through his body. Alex remained where he was. He wouldn't pull away, knowing fully well that he was needed here, even though there was nothing that could be done now.

“Can you do something?” Cole suddenly asked, his voice muffled. “Can you bring her back?”

The Runner froze, eyes slowly going to meet the courier's blue ones. “Can you bring back Trish?” He inhaled shakily. “You- you were dead too...can you help her?”

Alex's eyes widened. Was the man being  _serious_ ? His gaze flicked back to the dead woman in the younger man's hold. 

MacGrath just asked him to  _infect_ his dead lover. He  _wanted_ him to make her like he was.

Alex swallowed, gaze fixed on the body, even as tendrils slipped from his skin and curiously curled against the still warm body. Death worked slowly, after all. Even with the brain, the hearts and the lungs shut off, a human body didn't die in one go. It was more of a process that took up to a day to finish. It would be so  _easy_ . Just slip in his strain of Blacklight, and wait for the virus to revive the body. Worked with  _him_ , after all.

He furrowed his brows, and tendrils coiled into the woman's hair. If it weren't Trish, but  _Dana_ , if it was  _him_ sitting there on the floor, what would he  _want_ to happen? Would he  _want_ her to live?

_Fuck yes._ Alex knew he didn't want to be alone, if the inevitable happened. But...was it  _right_ ?

_Could he risk it?_

The Runner grit his teeth. His body was throbbing with the need to infect. The urge was always there, always at the back of his mind, and it only got stronger when he thought about it. But...

“I can't”, he ground out, forcing his tendrils back into his body. “I won't do it.” He pulled back and stood, trying to get as much distance between himself and the corpse.

MacGrath stared at him with a hurt expression. “You- you were dead too. Why can't you bring Trish back?”

“Because-” Alex inhaled sharply, “Because it is _wrong_.” He jammed his hands into his pockets and lowered his head for his hood to shadow his face. “God knows I would _love_ to do it- it was something I was _made_ to do, to infect...” He trailed off with a fierce snort. “But- I won't do it.”

He lifted his eyes to lock gazes with the younger. “I understand you- I know you loved her- but she's  _dead_ , Cole.”

The courier didn't reply, just held the woman closer. Alex knelt down and folded his arms over his knees. “You have to ask yourself, Cole. Do you  _want_ her to be like me? Do you  _want_ her to live like I do?” He exhaled coldly. “I  _kill and eat_ humans, Cole. Do you  _want_ to force Trish to live like this too? Killing humans just to survive? Stalk them, tear them apart- live  _forever_ with their hatred and disgust of what you did to them?”

The courier's body shook once, but he didn't say anything yet. Alex slowly reached out to place his hand back on his shoulder. “And even  _if_ there was a way for her not to consume like I do- It wouldn't be  _Trish_ anymore.” He frowned unhappily. “I am  _not_ the real Alex Mercer, because he was dead too when I took him over. I  _look_ like him, I have his family- but I am not  _him_ .” He furrowed his brows. “Even if I infected Trish, even if I made her like I am- she wouldn't be  _Trish_ anymore. She would be something else, something that looks like her, that talks like her- but  _wouldn't be her_ . No, she would be a perversion of nature, a mockery of your memories of her, Cole.”

He slid to his feet, shoulders slumping. “No. I can't bring her back. I  _won't._ I'm sorry, Cole.”

* * *

 

Cole felt like his world was shattered. It was broken, torn to pieces. Never to be fixed again. Trish was dead.

_Trish was dead_ .

He moaned in agony and wrapped his arms tighter around her body. She was still warm, but not as warm as she used to be. He didn't want her to be dead. Trish couldn't be dead, because she was always so full of life.

But no matter what he wanted, she was  _dead_ . Right there, in his arms, and slowly cooling down. It was so unreal. It  _couldn't be_ .

He sobbed again, tremor shattering what little confidence he had left and hugged her closer. He loved her just so much. He wanted her back.

He even asked Mercer to bring her back, make her like he was- and he denied it. However, no matter how much it hurt, he knew it had been the right thing to do. Cole couldn't stomach the thought of Trish ever being like Mercer. Normally, he wouldn't ever entertain the idea, but with Trish taken so brutally from him...

Everything hurt, everything was too raw. He just wanted Trish back, wanted her to wake up and tell him everything was okay. But she didn't. And that shut down his entire body, dulled his senses. If somebody was going to shoot him, he wouldn't be able to do anything to protect himself. At the moment, he couldn't even  _think_ clearly. 

All he could think of was Trish. Trish- who was _never_ going to smile at him again, never hug him, never...He swallowed and his fingers dug into her hair. Her blood was already dry, flaking off her brunette strands in small brown pieces. She really needed to wash her hair, he thought, then a second later he realized that she wouldn't ever wash her hair again, because  
she  
was  
dead.

He  _knew_ it. He  _knew_ she was dead, but still, the realization broke his heart again. He moaned again and his form sunk in on itself a little more. He didn't cry though, because he had no more tears left. He was vaguely aware of Alex leaving him briefly to pluck the six doctors off the roof and carefully let them down onto the stable ground; he was aware of their stares on his back- but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

The more time passes, the more his mind begins to shift. Trish was dead, and he couldn't bring her back. Alex wouldn't bring her back either.

So what was left for him?

_Kessler_

The very thought of the man darkened his mind, and lightning started to crawl along his body, dyeing the ground around them in shades of crimson. The man who took Trish. The man who took the Ray Sphere. The man who took Zeke too. The man who took  _everything_ from him. He hugged Trish's body closer, then static electricity ran through his legs as he forced himself to stand, lifting her off the cold ground. Alex seemed a bit surprised, though he didn't say anything. Cole swallowed once and turned to him, vaguely noticing the shades of soothing blue around him.

“Is there...any place we can bring her?” He asked, and his voice was so brittle, it almost made his heart break again at the realization that he _should not_ sound like that.

Mercer eyed him, then turned his shoulder slightly. “Yes”, he said. “The Memorial Park.”

Memorial Park? Cole frowned, swallowing back the lump in his throat. He didn't want to cry anymore. He couldn't be weak anymore- weakness had gotten Trish killed.

“The Williams Park”, his ally clarified. “The people of the Historic had re-purposed it. As burial ground for those that perished in the Blast.”

_Oh_ .

Alex glanced at him, then wordlessly stepped besides him. “Let's make sure she has...peace”, he pointed out. “We can figure out what happens later...after that.” He sounded like he wasn't used to things like that. Cole could relate. He would  _never_ believed he had to bury his lover- Trish- the lump in his throat thickened again, and he stopped walking, just to make sure he wouldn't collapse. Alex stopped too, watching him. He didn't come to his aid though, and Cole actually felt grateful for it. Because he didn't want his help. Not here, not now. It was something he had to do himself.

He swallowed once and continued the way. Alex fell in step with him, smoothly, silently, like a shadow. Cole could appreciate the silence they walked in. It allowed him to think. Kessler shattered his future. He was going to die for this. His fingers curled against Trish's body enraged.  _Not yet, Cole. Don't flip out now._

Through the darkening fog, he was barely aware that Alex found and spoke to a man- the groundskeeper perhaps? After that, there was only a short grunt, and he followed after the sentient weapon again. The other man was walking with them too, speaking words. Soothing words? Cole wasn't sure, he didn't listen.

He wasn't even sure what time it was. Still night, that much was sure. The groundskeeper stopped besides a tree and pointed out a bit of ground that was still empty. He asked questions again, then handed them a shovel and walked off again.

Alex glanced at the shovel, before turning to Cole. He offered it to him wordlessly. As if he knew that it wasn't  _his_ place to do this. Cole only nodded and took the tool, and started to dig. Six feet deep, six long, and two wide. The earth was cold, and he briefly hesitated. He didn't wanted Trish to lie in the icy ground. He didn't want her gone from the surface...but he also didn't want anything to get to her. And she was dead. As much as he didn't wanted this to be true, as much as he wanted to wake up and find this all a nightmare, he knew from the throbbing pain in his chest that it was  _real_ .

“Damnit!” He swore, flinging the shovel away. “Why?!”

Alex didn't answer. Didn't even move. He just stood there, watching, holding Trish's lifeless body. Cole eyed him as he climbed out of the hole he dug. Huh. It was pretty large already. Did he really dig that much? He didn't even realize it.

He took his lover from Alex, and hesitated again to put her into the cold ground. He loved her, loved her with every fiber of his being- but she was dead. Killed by the same man that killed the entire city.

He kissed her on the forehead, half expecting her little giggle. But she was silent and broken, much like his heart. “I love you, Trish”, he whispered. “I love you so much. More than myself. I- I would have moved Heaven and Hell for you, Trish.” He gently lowered her into the ground. “I love you”, he muttered again, then grabbed the shovel again. “I'm sorry I couldn't catch you.”

“Dana-” Alex's voice surprised him a little bit, and he glanced at him, even as he started to move the earth back into the hole, covering Trish. “Dana said this is a good place.” He tilted his head. “I think it is”, he added. “Before the Blast- we used to be here very often. Children played here, and everything was good.” He frowned, and it looked like a helpless attempt at smiling. “The old women here kicked us out eventually, because I didn't fit into the picture of the park. But the park itself was still good.” He glanced at Cole. “She's going to be at...peace here. Because nothing is going to hurt her ever again.” His expression said something completely different, as if it _physically_ _hurt_ to tell him something like that. It didn't fit Alex Mercer, it didn't fit with what he was- and he _knew_ it. However, he had said it nevertheless and Cole was grateful for these words.

He stopped shoveling, and all that was left was a neat pile that hid Trish away from the world. Mercer moved, producing a simple wooden cross from  _somewhere_ . It was a simple thing, just two boards nailed together. Cole took it and stuck it into the ground. The boards themselves looked old, but there were fresh scratch marks on them. Marks carved into the wood with metallic claws. 'Trish Dailey' was written there.

He swallowed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a picture. A picture of Trish. He always had it with him, carried it in his safest and deepest pocket. Always with him. Now it would stay here.

He tacked it to the cross, and stepped back, staring at it.

“I'm sorry”, he mumbled again, “For not being able to catch you. For letting you fall. You needed me, and I failed you.” He inhaled shakily. “I love you, Trish.”

Then he fell silent, expecting an answer. Of course, there was none. And his mind started to whirl back. Trish was dead. Kessler killed her.

_Kessler_ .

The numbness, the sorrow, the agony he felt inside him were gradually swallowed up, devoured by rage. It wasn't the same hot burning anger that pulsed through him just a few days ago, at Steel Harbor- it was a cold, calculating fury. Wrath. The sun was starting to peek through the gaps in the building.

“I'm going to kill Kessler”, he announced. “I will stop him. And I will kill him.” He turned to Alex, who still stood besides him. His own lips curled away from his teeth in a snarl. “I will find him. And I will make him _pay_.”

Alex's expression didn't change, but the rising sun threw shadows across his face. His eyes glowed with the same icy wrath Cole felt inside him. “You will”, he replied. “You will find him. And then- then you will  _kill_ him. But don't show him any mercy. Let him  _suffer_ .”

“I will avenge Trish”, Cole agreed, then turned to the grave and the cross. “I _promise_ ”

* * *

 

Alex didn't understand why he stayed with Cole. He felt like he was intruding into something. Dana needed him, because she was all alone now, and Kessler had attacked her once already. His mind told him to get back to Dana, to make sure she would be safe. Yet he didn't pull away like he should have done. He stayed with the man, had watched in silence how he had buried his dead lover. He could see the tremors going through his body, he could hear the painful labored breathing. This man was coming apart at the seams, and not in a good way.

This was why he couldn't go to Dana. Not now. Cole had just lost everything, and Alex knew from experience that a lot of humans would just give up after that. But he wasn't supposed to give up. He had to stay strong, he had to stay  _alive_ until they had dealt with Kessler and Moya. So Alex remained there to make sure the man wouldn't do something that could potentially end his own life. He felt he owed it to Trish.

Alex briefly thought about going after Kessler to spare the other man the pain of having to face the killer of his lover. But then he declared with such an intensity that he was going to kill the other conduit, that Alex realized he could  _never_ take this prey away from the younger man.

Cole was going to kill Kessler. Not Alex. Cole. The courier was going to face the true terrorist, and he was going to destroy him, or die trying.

Kessler was for Cole to kill. For Cole to break. Alex didn't understand human emotions- except one. Revenge. Revenge had been the first thing on his mind, after all. It was a familiar, cold and calculating notion.

And he understood how important it was to the courier.

Cole was the one going to kill Kessler, and nobody, not even the mighty ZEUS was going to take it away from him.

He thought of Dana again, and figured that if Kessler didn't kill her when he had the chance, he wouldn't do so in the future. He was going after  _Cole_ right now, and Dana being anywhere near him would put her right back into the line of fire.

At the moment, she was a lot safer in the hospital, though Alex promised himself to check up on her as soon as possible, but he had to keep an eye on the younger man first.

The courier was glaring darkly at nothing in particular, as he attached his phone back to the strap of his bag. He rung up a number.

“John”, he grated curtly.

“ _Cole!”_ , the NSA agent greeted. _“I...uh...I've seen what Kessler put you through. Hell of a thing. Every minute that mad dog walks our planet, all of our lives are at risk.”_

Cole froze suddenly, and the cold fury quickly switched with white-hot rage. “Where have you been?” He snarled, “If you'd helped out, Trish would be still  _alive_ !” Alex furrowed his brows, watching the other man. He was trying to direct his pain into a calculating anger, but he was still too raw. It was all too easy for him to fall back into that sorrow.

“ _There was nothing I could do”_ , the agent replied, and he actually sounded somewhat _scared_. Of Cole? _“She was dead the second Kessler got his claws on her.”_

“Spare me that crap!” Cole barked, and red lightning started to lash out of his skin. “You just didn't want to put your neck on the line!”

“ _Expose myself to save one person?”_ , White replied with a biting tone, _“I don't think so.”_ Alex's eyes narrowed on the obviously cowardice of the man. If it had been _him_ , he wouldn't have bothered even _one_ second to do the right thing. And if he had been exposed through his actions, then he would have fought his enemies tooth and nail. No matter who.

Cole was snarling openly, like a rabid  _Hunter_ , and stalked across the ground agitated. He was obviously fighting with himself, whether to keep this other ally, or chase him away, and figure things out himself.

White must have sensed it (or he was watching, Alex wasn't sure- the man had a gift for disappearing), because he stumbled slightly over his next words.  _“I can help you get some payback, though”_ , he mentioned. Cole's body became less rigid, more alert.  _“The power grid”_ , White pointed out, and that drew the courier's attention. It was like offering Alex a new genetic trait he would be able to adapt into his own. A bait he was more than sure to take.  _“It had never been updated”_ , the agent continued,  _“So it still uses the external substations. Turn on all three and you restore power to the rest of the island.”_

“And give myself a new power in the process”, Cole growled, eyes narrow.

“ _Exactly”_

White cut the connection, and the courier turned to the Runner. “Let's go. And kill as many sons of bitches we can find.”

Alex allowed himself to grin. “This sounds like it includes copious amounts of brutal violence. I'm in.” He  _was_ a weapon, after all. And with the First Sons' gas masks, it was only all too easy to see  _Blackwatch_ in front of him. His old hatred for them re-emerged and mingled with his anger. His body heated up, and his entire system shifted to increase the damage he could put out, while making sure not to get damaged too much himself. His senses increased in efficiency, and he could literally  _see_ the first of the First Sons approach their location.

He allowed himself a moment to throw a nasty sneer into Cole's direction, before he pushed off the floor and shot through the sky. The soft ground of the park hampered with his jump slightly, but far from enough to prevent him getting where he  _wanted_ to be. His claws were formed within a second, Biolumniscent spots around his joints and shoulders burning with an orange glow. The First Sons shouted when they noticed him, but they were too slow.

Once he reached them, they were  _dead_ .

And, for the first time since Manhattan, he didn't bother with  _neatness_ . He just tore them apart and left them to rot on the cool floor. Cole was nearby only a moment later, hand angled as he threw a single grenade at a turret that stood just down the street. The gun exploded in a glorious manner, and several Sons nearby were dead in an instant. He nodded at the Runner, and both rushed down the street. Cole made a short gesture, and Alex offered him his arm to stand upon. Cole easily hopped on the black and red chitinous Biomass, and Alex catapulted him upwards. The courier spun his body easily and targeted the Sons that tried to ambush them from the roof. His lightning tore through them easily enough, so when Alex jumped upwards, there wasn't much of them left except for smoldering corpses.

They headed further to the south-east, where the GPS marker was. There wasn't any energy around them, no electricity, and a lot more First Sons.

Not that they had any chance to harm them- both him and Cole were too pissed off to let anything stop them. After all, rage was a wonderful amplifier if used the correct way.

Alex was usually the one to tear the men apart, with the courier shooting those that believed that distance would save them. Critical mistake, guys.

“There!” Cole mentioned, pointing down to the street. Alex saw the manhole cover. His nose twitched from the smell of sewage, and he quickly disassembled his olfactory organs. He usually didn't like sticking to the sewers, but he knew he couldn't leave his ally on his own. He had a target now, but he was also still too raw. Any wrong notion and his entire composure could collapse either into a berserking rage or the same numb state he'd been in before.

It would be better if he would accompany him, to prevent exactly that from happening.

They dropped through the manhole into the sewers, and were instantly discovered and shot at. Alex was in front of Cole the next heartbeat, and his Whipfist severed the First Son's head from his shoulders. The courier nodded at him, then hopped off the maintenance grate and latched onto one of the many pipes around them to head further down the sewer. Alex shifted his eyes to the infrared spectrum, and followed after the man, though he was aware he wouldn't be able to cling to the pipe work like the younger man was able to.

However, he could also jump further  _and_ cling to walls and ceilings with no problem. Traversing the sewers was easy for him, and rather short-lived.

“That's it”, MacGrath mentioned as he hopped off the pipes and pointed at the massive transformer in front of him. Only half of it was working.

“What are you going to do?” Alex questioned. 

Cole grunted. “Watch and learn.” He jumped upwards and latched onto both conductors, bypassing the energy through his own body. Alex kept his distance as the massive machine started to spark, electricity lashing out of it. He still watched in morbid fascination how the man's body arched from the energy going through him, how every muscle cramped together.

The courier let go once both sides had energy, and dropped back into a crouch. He dusted himself off, flexed his fingers, and glanced at his companion. “Let's continue”, he pointed out, “I can still sense more of these fucks down here, and I  _really_ want to kill them.”

“I can relate”, Alex replied with a smirk of his own. He should let the younger man vent. Keeping rage inside wasn't healthy, after all. So they headed further down the sewers, picking off whatever First Sons they could find. Alex was at advantage here- the sewer's humid temperatures did little to hide the much warmer Sons from him. His Whipfist made short process of them, though he did point out those too far from them to MacGrath, and let him zap them. He noticed the lightning was back in blue again, and it confused him somewhat, as it sometimes switched to red. Was this some sort of hint towards his mental state?

“There's the exit”, the courier eventually mentioned, pointing at a rusty-looking ladder. “Let's get out of here and test out this new power.” He growled. “I got a feeling it is going to be perfect for killing these fucks.”

* * *

 

They reached the surface easily enough. Cole didn't take any time to inhale the fresh air, because right now, everything tasted bitter. Mercer was right behind him, his body smoothly climbing through the narrow hole in the ground, his claws clicking against the solid asphalt as he pulled himself through and closed the manhole behind them.

Even at a distance, Cole could feel the inhuman heat he gave off. Ever since their struggle in the Neon, he had realized how much warmer the other man was. Most likely a by-product of his nature as a literal virus, however, he hadn't noticed him being that  _hot_ before. Yes, he'd seen the orange glowing bits around his claws before, but now it almost seemed as if the air around him was shimmering, like it would be above a street during the summer. His speed had increased too. Higher body temperature, greater speed- he obviously had a built-in ability to increase his own efficiency.

Cole felt slightly envious, because he couldn't do this. All he could do was mentally forcing his body to work better, a tactic that was going to turn ugly pretty fast. A human body wasn't made for prolonged periods of hyper activity, after all.

So he had to make this count before his anger subsided and left him without any energy whatsoever. Cole was also aware he hadn't drunk or eaten anything for the past day already. Food wasn't that much of a problem- he could go for days without eating, even before he got his powers, but  _water_ was going to be trouble. His tongue already stuck to the roof of his mouth. He would need to take a break and drink something soon.

But, right now, his body was pulsing with the energy he gained from the transformer. He had gotten a new ability, and he felt its familiar power coursing through him. He had felt something like it before, back on the Fremont Bridge. Back on that roof when he and Mercer fought.

He felt the semi truck closing in on them before he even heard it. Of course, Alex had already noticed it, eying a God-to-honest  _turret truck_ drive around a corner to head towards them.

The First Sons probably took this thing off the Reapers.

Cole didn't let his partner take it, though. He lifted one hand, and lightning snapped through his body, much stronger than what he was used to.

He jerked his arm down, fingers clenched into a tight fist, and the sky darkened instantly. A single, giant lightning bolt struck the semi truck from the black clouds.

Alex actually jumped back startled when the truck  _ceased to exist_ . The single lightning bolt broke the vehicle apart from the sudden increase in temperature, letting the gas from the tank spill into the streets. No longer confined inside, the liquid quickly evaporated, turning into a highly volatile vapor that instantly ignited, tearing the truck and parts of the street apart in a massive explosion. The air was heavy with the smell of ozone and burnt asphalt. Cole blinked in surprise, then slowly turned his head upwards to eye the dark clouds overhead. This attack just now completely obliterated an entire turret truck in a  _single_ blast. Sure, it had taken a massive chunk out of his reserves, but it was  _exactly_ the same move he used when he fought Alex.

Just this time, it wasn't depending on his rage and anger. Now he could summon it  _at will_ .

He just needed a large amount of electricity to start it. His lips peeled away from his teeth in a gleeful snarl. “Yeah”, he ground out, “Fry, you bastards!” He turned to Alex, who was watching him warily. “Come. We got to start up those substations.”

Alex just nodded once, expression easing up slightly. Yeah, looked like he was a little startled. No wonder, electricity didn't seem to be one of his favorite things to be hit with. Even before Kessler, he had always kept his distance from him when he powered up.

Both men headed down an alleyway, to where Cole's GPS led them. When his phone rang, he was surprised to hear Moya's voice, of all people.

“ _Cole, we need to talk”_ , the DARPA agent pointed out, using a tone that sounded accusing. _“I know what's John been telling you.”_

The courier's excitement turned into irritation, and he bared his teeth in a vicious snarl. “I got nothing to say to you”, He growled, “You've lied to me from the very beginning. I don't like being lied to.”  _Fool me once..._

“ _I didn't have any other choice”_ , Moya tried to justify herself. _“I had to make myself appear sympathetic, get you to help me. The Ray Sphere can't fall into the wrong hands.”_

“So that was your real plan?”, Cole scoffed, watching how Alex jumped a group of First Sons that tried to ambush them and shredded them to a finely-blended paste. “I find John and the Sphere and then you take them and leave me to the wolves?” He already knew it, he just needed to vent his anger here.

“ _I would have done everything I could to get you out of there.”_ Lies. All lies. Cole knew it.

He pressed the button. “Goodbye, Moya.”

“ _Cole!”_ She snapped, stopping him momentarily. _“If you end this call now, I will have no choice!”_

“What?” Alex's voice spoke up, a low rumble like a coming storm. “You're going to send people into Empire?”

Cole heard the woman inhale sharply, while the viral Super mutant continued. “Just  _try_ it. See how much of your precious army you pull back  _intact_ .” With his teeth bared and his eyes now genuinely glowing crimson, even Cole felt fear tickling along his spine. 

“ _I am not joking, ZEUS”_ , Moya hissed.

“Neither am _I_.” He nodded at the courier, and Cole ended the call. Alex's expression shifted back into his neutral one, and he pointed one claw at the other side of the street. I assume that's the Substation you're looking for.”

“On it”, Cole agreed. He stopped, glaring down the street where a few First Sons were. “You take these fucks.”

“Deal” Mercer pounced off the street and into the group of Sons. Cole couldn't even see him amidst all the bloodshed. For a moment, it looked like a fountain of red, and somehow he was glad there were no civilians around. They were all hiding in their homes, he knew, watching them fight against those that wronged them for weeks.

He saw Alex tearing another First Son in half,  _lengthwise_ , before those awful black tentacles came out and swallowed the guy up, and he found he just didn't care. Sometimes it needed monsters to fight monsters. It was a good thing the scariest and strongest of them was on  _his_ side, then.

Cole turned his attention on the substation, and lightning started to arch away from him. He felt slightly dizzy from the lack of electricity around, but if compared to the first time in the Neon, it was at a bearable level now.

The substation came to life, and connected with the transformer. It surface was covered with electricity, but the hum was too slow, not like the others.

Cole frowned and called John. “John? The substation's not really working.”

“ _Oh. It does. However, it is an older model, so it comes back online in fits and starts. You're going to have to defend each one until it powers up.”_ He paused once, then added. _“Looks like Mercer has this under control, though.”_

“Yeah”, Cole muttered, and his wrath reared its ugly head again. “But I won't let him have all the fun.” He pulled himself up on the sparking piece of machine, feeling his body being electrocuted. He drained energy directly out of the city grid, directly from the transformer. The sky above darkened once more. Cole inhaled once. “Alex!” He shouted, “It's my turn now!” The other man reacted immediately, throwing his body to the side and away from his prey. He was fast, much faster than he was before, as he got into a safe distance, to where the substation was. He paused there, eyes meeting Cole's like a dog waiting for a command. Funny, considering his choice of disguise.

“Just get on with it”, Alex suddenly snarled, one claw shifting into his lashing whip, “Before I go back there.”

Cole chuckled darkly. “Sorry.” He stomped his feet down and bent his knees to stay in a sturdy position, then curled both hands to fists. Thunder rolled above their heads, just in time for the First Sons to try bringing in back-up. He briefly lifted his hands over his head, then yanked both down, and the forces of nature obeyed him. Massive pillars of lightning rained from the dark clouds overhead, eating up anything in their path. With a simple mental flick, Cole could easily direct them, tell them where to go, and who to kill. The thunder clap was deafening loud, echoing all over the Historic District. The First Sons never stood a chance.

When the substation made a loud clunking noise and then started humming smoothly, the courier finally let it up. The ground was devastated, with asphalt and even cars melted right into the floor where the lightning did _not_ hit. Everything it had hit, however, had more or less ceased to exist, simply evaporated by the extreme heat. Of the First Sons that had been unlucky enough to be right in the middle of the blow nothing remained, everybody who had been further away remained as a charred black corpse.

Cole groaned and slipped off the transformer, scrabbling blindly through his bag to find his bottle of water. It was nearly empty, and the water inside lukewarm. But at least it was something to drink.

John rang him up again.  _“Good work”_ , he praised,  _“That's one down. I hope you're up for the other two.”_

“I am. Just need to take a little break”, Cole replied, stuffing his now empty bottle back.

“ _Good, I'll call you later on.”_ The agent cleared his throat. _“Little question, though: How much did Moya know about me?”_

“Hell if I know”, the courier grated. He did _not_ want to talk about Moya. “Is it important?”

“ _She works for a different agency and knew I was undercover”_ , John explained. _“And that means the NSA has been compromised, that someone is outing agents. Our entire national security apparatus could be exposed!”_

“I think there are more important things right now”, Alex cut in with a frown. “Like that fuck that murdered the city.” He crossed his arms, glaring darkly. “And seriously, I always thought you idiots were playing on the same side, so why the fuck are you even hiding secrets _from each other_?!”

“ _That has nothing to do-”_

“NSA, DARPA, FBI, CIA- I was always under the impression you secret services were supposed to work together, not _against_ each other.” Alex cocked his head. “If not, then I understand why Doctor Mercer unleashed his experiment in Manhattan. All of you deserve a giant 'Fuck you' right in your arrogant faces, because you can't do anything _right_ , only screw up things even more through your God-damn secrecy.”

He scoffed and pulled Cole back to his feet. “White, I hope for your  _entire_ agency's health that you were  _serious_ about destroying this fucking Ray Sphere. If  _not_ , I will kill all of you.”

“ _I am being serious”_ , White sighed. _“I'll speak to you later, Cole.”_

He cut the connection, and the courier glanced at Alex. “Listen- I appreciate you helping me, but would you please stop threatening other people?”

“Nice asking doesn't cut it”, Mercer grumbled. “And they know what I am capable of, most people don't want to screw with me, so it's surprisingly effective.”

No use trying to instill morale and diplomatic tactfulness into a walking weapon of mass destruction. Plus there was no time- the other two substations had to be activated and there were still a lot of First Sons waiting to be killed.

Cole dusted himself off. “Come on. We still got to stomp a lot of these bastards.”

* * *

 

It hadn't taken too long to find the other two substations and activate them. Alex and Cole had fallen into a comfortable system: Cole would activate the station and stand on it to wait for it to finally get going, while Alex would tear first those to shreds that tried to stop them, and then either wait for the courier to finish blowing the shit out of them with his powerful lightning strikes or take care of those guys that thought hiding would save them.

But Alex knew the younger man wouldn't be able to keep going for much longer. He could hear his heart race, his uneven breaths, he could see the tremors running through his limbs. How long had he been running without food or water? Without sleep? Humans broke so easily, even conduits.

Adrenaline wasn't the best substance to run on anyways. Prolonged exposure made for an irregular heartbeat, the kidneys were overworked with the constant release of the stuff, respiration and body temperature came out of whack. In short, Cole put himself willingly through near-fatal stress. He could only guess that he'd been doing this for the better of a week now, with seemingly little sleep and food. Plus, yesterday, he'd been nearly crushed to death by a tower dropping on him, followed nearly directly by slamming into the ground at high enough speed and force to break several bones and probably tear some internal organs. His body had mended by now, but just barely.

Around them, the energy came back to life, and the younger man slumped against the substation, throwing his arms up. “Fucking finally”, he ground out, “Brain felt like it was in a vise the entire time.” He tried to move, but his legs wouldn't move. “Oh what the Hell?!”

“I was afraid this would happen”, Alex pointed out, crouching down next to him. “You overexerted yourself. Your body's shutting down at the moment- possibly a hypoglycemia. If it is, then I would need to force you to ingest some glucose, but seeing as you can substitute biochemical energy with electrical, I'd say it is enough if you just get some rest first.”

“Like Hell!”, MacGrath barked, “Kessler's still out there!”

“You won't get him if you are half dead”, Alex pointed out. “You'll need a few hours of sleep, plus food and water. _Then_ you can go and wreck yourself again.”

“You worried about me?”

“I promised you I'll take care you get to Kessler. But you are _just_ human, too. Don't try to kill yourself through neglect.”

The courier scowled at him for a moment, then deflated visibly. He knew he'd lost. Alex cocked his head, then easily picked him up, completely ignoring his protest. “Hey! I'm not crippled! You can let me go!”

“I will not. Your body's running on fumes, and I will not risk you going catatonic because you were stubborn about walking yourself.”

Cole trailed off, swearing under his breath, but didn't offer any resistance. He must have realized how his own body was working against him. It wasn't going to be forever, either. Alex knew this area well, and he knew of a safe place nearby. The building he had in mind was far away enough from 'Ground Zero', however, the blast  _did_ tear a series of good-sized holes into the side facing the Blast crater. The building was off-limits because of this, but it was secure.

He easily brought MacGrath into the fourth story, where a giant hole was all that remained of the bathroom and hallway of this apartment. The bedroom also had a sizable hole in it, but the inside was still in decent shape. For an apartment that had been picked over by looters, that is.

Alex sighed and dropped the courier on the bed. “You. Sleep”, he ordered.

“Where are we?” Cole asked, glancing around.

“Dana's and mine apartment”, the Runner explained. “Or, it _was_ our apartment before the Blast. It is safe here.” He hoped Dana was okay. But he knew her, she was tougher than he'd given her credit for. She would be fine. Alex glanced at the courier. “You go to sleep now. I go and find something to eat for you. After that, we will figure out what else to do.” He paused with a frown. “Oh. Don't even _try_ to run off on your own, I got your scent-?”

Cole had already passed out, sprawled across the bed sheets. Alex blinked, then walked over to him and took the phone off him once more. He had been serious about letting the courier sleep, and he would take care nobody would disturb him. Now first things first: Food and water. Alex had a pretty good idea where to look, after all, in Manhattan it had been his job to find food for Dana.

He didn't even get to leave the apartment building behind when his nose suddenly twitched and his eyes widened. In an instant, his claws were back out and his body temperature had jumped up several degrees. He pounced to the top of the building, landing with a heavy thud and a loud growl.

“Oh, shut up. We both know you are not going to attack me”, the single other occupant on the roof commented. Kessler slowly turned to face the Blacklight Runner, sparking blue eyes narrow.

“If you don't fuck off, I will”, Alex hissed at him, back crawling with tendrils. “I will tear off your head and show it to Cole.”

“Don't be so dramatic”, Kessler replied. He turned his head away, and Alex ducked lower. He knew that stance- it was somebody who feared nothing, who wouldn't be taken by surprise- and he did remember their battle at Alden's Tower. It had been _painful_ , and that was to him who didn't have the same nervous system as humans had. So Alex was being careful around the old man. He didn't know what to expect.

“Where's Dunbar?” He growled instead, eyes narrow and body ready to jump.

“Hm?” Kessler glanced at him. “Oh. Doing good, I think.” He cocked his head, and Alex couldn't help but feel it was familiar somehow. Not only that, but there were things about his _voice_ , and his smell that felt strangely known to him. But Alex couldn't really place it. 

“I saw what you did for Trish”, the old man suddenly pointed out, and there was something _sad_ about his voice. He turned to Alex again, and his expression was...downcast. The old man looked older than before, and he remembered the guy was well over a hundred years now. “Believe it or not, but I know how hard it is to bury someone you love. Especially if it's someone as special as Trish.”

Alex paused, head tilted to the side quizzically. The way Kessler spoke about the woman he just murdered...it sounded like he knew her.  _Personally_ . Had he been a part of her past? A teacher, maybe? Old neighbor? Friend of the family, maybe?

But then his rage mounted again.  _If_ he had known her from earlier, if he remembered her that fondly, then  _why the fuck_ did he kill her?!

He ducked again, eyes flashing red and his claws fanned out besides him. “I'm going to kill you, Kessler”, he snarled enraged. “Cole is going to kill you. We will tear you apart limb by limb.”

The old man just glanced at him. “You probably will”, he agreed with a dead voice. “In fact, I hope you do.” His shoulder slumped, and for a moment, he looked only like a broken old man. “I am welcoming it. I've been at this for a very long time, Alex, and now I'm tired. Worn out.” He threw a last glance at the Runner. “Won't be much longer now.”

Kessler vanished in a static crackle, leaving him behind. Alex blinked and his enraged expression slowly melted into a confused one.

He just called him 'Alex'. Not Mercer, not Blacklight, not ZEUS.  _Alex_ .

_But why_ the ever-loving Fuck did he sound  _just like_ Cole right now?!

 


	26. Against the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, Kessler fucked up. Time to destroy his toys.

**Against the World**

 

_Falling_

_Falling_

_Falling_

_Screaming._

_Darkness and the iron smell of blood. He's still falling, whirling through the dense darkness. He's seeing faces, familiar faces, but he's falling too fast to really recognize them._

_Hot air roars past him, and suddenly his ears are filled with screaming. There is fire everywhere now, fire and death, and he's falling faster and faster-_

_He hit the ground with in an agonizing crash, his mouth flew open in a silent scream. He collapsed in on himself, groaning in pain, before a tremor through the ground made him scramble to his feet. Flames were parting just behind him, revealing a giant burning monster. He ran._

_He ran as fast as he could, away from the titan that destroyed the World. How was he supposed to stop this?_

_The ground gave in and he was falling again, through ashes and smoke. He blinked the acrid embers away, and saw something falling in front of him. No, not something. Someone._

_Trish!_

_He swung his body around, angling downwards like a diver, and tried to catch her. But then something caught him and dragged him back. He whirled around, seeing the titan behind him, holding a black hole in its hand that mercilessly pulled him upwards._

“ _No! Let me go, damnit! I have to- have to save her!” He heard her shout his name, and whirled to see her drop into the endless darkness beneath._

“ _ **TRIISSHHHHHH!!!”**_

Cole jolted upright, lungs burning and throat constricting. He was choking, couldn't breathe around the panicking sobs that erupted from his chest. He had been so close-  _so close_ to blissful unawareness, away from the pain and the hole where his heart should be.

But it all came back to him, crushing him. Trish was dead. Trish was  _dead_ .

Cole moaned in agony and sat upright, pulling his legs against his body, hiding his face behind his crossed arms on top of his knees.

Trish was dead.

_Trish was dead._

And Kessler killed her.

But  _he_ was still alive.

Lightning crawled across his skin and lashed out, crackling through the air and scorching the faded wall papers.  _He was still alive_ . And he would kill the man who murdered his girlfriend. He had promised it to her, after all. He glared darkly at the devastated room, before he slipped off the bed and carefully moved a few steps. His body was sore, and felt like it had no energy left. No wonder, he hadn't exactly eaten anything ever since the mess at Steel Harbor. He hoped Alex had found something to eat, because no matter how much he hated Kessler, he knew perfectly well that he would just kill himself if he went after him now. The other had been right about that. Hell, Steel Harbor itself had showed him that he was not indestructible.

_If you are going on a trip for revenge, dig two holes_ , somebody had said. Yeah. That guy had no idea what it meant to plan carefully. Cole had no intention to get wrecked by Kessler again. No, the only guy that was going to die was Kessler.

And Cole would walk away.

He scoffed and focused his radar senses, spreading it over the entire block. He found a load of enemies and cowering civilians. Alex was nearby too, just in the next room. The courier headed over, though his legs just wouldn't stop shaking. He hated it, hated being that vulnerable, that depending on normal human requirements. He didn't have any time for sleep or food, damnit- there was a serial killer out there, someone who blew up six blocks of the Historic District, who  _murdered_ Trish- and Cole had to  _take it slow_ . 

But Alex  _was_ right. He couldn't just start berserking his way through the First Sons- he'd seen it before, these guys were far more dangerous than the Dustmen. They employed military tactics, military weapons, and had absolutely  _no_ qualms to kill. If he lost his cool, then he would either be badly hurt, or dead very fast.

A small part of him was relieved he didn't have to do this on his own. Alex was there, and he was willing to help him- more even, he was ready to carve a bloody swathe into these fucks, just so Cole could have his revenge. He was incredibly glad for this, if he didn't have him at his side, then things would look a lot worse.

Speaking of whom- Cole found the viral weapon perched at the soiled kitchen counter, head down for his hood to shade his face.

“How long was I out?”, The courier asked.

“Maybe five hours. It's not even noon yet.” Alex replied. He reached for something besides him, and flung a bag at Cole, who caught it. “I found something to eat”, he mentioned.

Cole gave an affirmative grunt, then opened the bag. His brows furrowed at the sight of the energy bars inside. Military-issued energy bars. “This isn't...normal food”, he pointed out.

“No”, Alex admitted. “I found a First Sons base. I killed everybody inside and took their supplies and weapons.” He lifted his head, blue eyes calmly locking with Cole's. “I destroyed the weapons, and handed the other supplies over to the clinics, telling them to give them to the people.”

Cole nodded slowly. “That was a good thing to do”, he muttered, glancing through the damaged window. He could see some people, during the day they were braver and tried to find some way to survive in the Historic. He was certain that a lot of them were going to hide in the Warren or Neon now, until everything had settled. The people were starving, he knew. The rare supply drops had stopped completely, leaving them to fend for themselves. Now there wasn't enough food left for the nearly ten million people. This was, by the way, one of the other reasons he hadn't seen any dogs and cats lately. Either they fled, or they had been eaten already. If there was no more food left, what would happen next? Cole didn't want to think of it, but he knew that, if it got worse, then the people might even start eating  _each other_ . It was already bad enough Alex did this, but he wasn't  _human_ . 

They needed to end Kessler before things could go further south than they already did. Furiously, he bit into his energy bar. There was silence while he ate, allowing him to sort through the mess his brain had become.

“What do you know of Trish's past?” Alex suddenly asked, and Cole felt a stab through his heart.

He lifted his head and swallowed, while his expression turned guarded and downcast. “Why?”

The older man furrowed his brows, then inclined his head. “Kessler had been here”, he explained. Cole's brain came to a screeching stand-still. “ _What_ ?!”

“He was here”, Alex repeated. “On the roof.” Cole felt all color drain from his face. Kessler was here? Why didn't Alex kill him?! Why didn't he get him and let him murder that old ass?!

“You were exhausted, and in no condition to fight Kessler”, Alex ground out, almost as if he knew what Cole was thinking (but then again, there wasn't much else on his mind these days). “And I didn't fancy getting fried out of my Biomass again.” He furrowed his brows, looking lost for a moment. “Plus, there was something about his _scent_ I couldn't place. Something familiar- and whatever it was, it stopped me from outright assaulting him.”

“You hesitated? He got away!”, Cole snapped.

“Sadly, yes- but you don't understand. I only hesitate when I identify someone by smell as friend or family. And Kessler- whatever the fuck was up with him- I believed him to be a friend.”

Cole furrowed his brows in worry when what he said settled in. “Hey- just so we're on the same picture here- will you be able to murder the fuck out of Kessler?”

Alex exhaled. “Yeah. As long I'm in control, I can break this inhibition. However, meeting him on the roof just...threw me out of the loop, I guess. I didn't expect him, of all people.”

Cole exhaled.  _Damn_ . That bastard really  _was_ everywhere, wasn't he?

“He told me about Trish”, Alex's voice cut into his consciousness, and he slowly turned his head into his direction, eyes wide. 

“He did- what?”

“He said he regretted killing her”, the viral Supermutant replied. “Sounded like he knew her from...before. Like he knew her personally. That's why I asked.”

Cole blinked, not really comprehending. Kessler talked about Trish? Like he knew her? But she never mentioned anybody like Kessler. Then how could he know her? And more even, why had he killed her?

What was his entire agenda about this?

Mercer had inclined his head. “He has something planned with _you_ , though what I don't understand.” He paused for a moment. “You said he'd given you some sort of vision?”

Cole grunted. “Yes. I am still trying to work it out...some sort of giant that's going to destroy the world, I think?” He scoffed and shook his head. “I don't know what he meant with it.”

“Maybe it's some sort of warning?” Alex suggested.

“Figured that much, but I am seriously lacking any information. Plus, I don't know why he's trying to kill me then.”

“Evolve or die”, the other muttered. Cole's back crawled. _Evolve or die as they say._ “Kessler said this. Survival of the fittest. Survival of the strongest.” Alex furrowed his brows. “But that would mean...”

“That he's trying to make me stronger”, the courier realized. “Either I manage to survive all this shit- or I don't.”

“Which means that he wants _you_ to be the one to stop this giant. Either literally or metaphorically. Maybe-” He cut himself off, back going ramrod straight and his head whipped to the side. “Tar”, he growled and the entire conversation was wiped clean.

“Tar?” Cole questioned in confusion. “Like... _Sasha's_ _tar_?” He didn't like the implications- Sasha's tar was a threat, cabable of turning people into mindless drones bent to Sasha's will- and he couldn't need her trying to stab him in the back while he was busy trying to take down Kessler. “Where?”

“In the air”, Mercer replied with a mixture between sniff and snort. “It's faint, but seems to come-” Cole's phone rang, followed by John's agitated voice. _“Cole? You there? There is trouble!”_

“-from the south”, Alex finished.

“It's just one thing after another. And here I just want to rip Kessler's head off and be done with it”, Cole ground out and grabbed his phone to answer it. “What is it?”

“ _Just found out what Kessler wanted with Sasha”_ , the NSA agent told them. _“He's milking her like a damned cow.”_

“Thanks”, Cole interrupted with a grimace. “ _That_ was a mental image I could have very well lived _without_.”

“ _Yeah, get your head back into the game”_ , John grumbled. _“Listen- he's using her mind-control tar to make a gas-based toxin.”_

“Those two psychos were made for each other”, the courier muttered.

John chuckled.  _“Yeah, they're freaks. Believe me, I know.”_ He exhaled and turned serious again.  _“But if Kessler succeeds in spraying the city with his toxin, he could take control of every person still there. And send them after you.”_

“Story of my life.”

“He already started”, Alex cut in, body bristling agitated. “I can smell the stuff on the wind.”

“ _He did?!”_ , John stumbled over his own tongue for a moment. _“Shit. I should've been faster. Okay- give me a second...got it. Looks like he's trying to deliver it via balloons. You guys should head over to the old Blue Canyon Building.”_

Cole hastily stuffed two bottles of water and the remaining energy bars into his bag, then nodded at Alex. The two men started moving, leaping out of the damaged apartment to head into the direction of the Blue Canyon. They scaled another building opposite of the street, when Alex suddenly cleared his throat. “Your phone”

Cole just flicked it over, not even looking to know his partner would catch it. He already knew what he was going to do: Call the only remaining ally they had left in the city.

“Dana”, Alex started once he had the phone, “Dana, are you there?”

“ _Alex?”_ Despite the wind rushing past them, Cole could hear the younger Mercer's voice clearly. She sounded like she had cried a lot, and didn't sleep any.

“Dana- listen, Kessler's planning something”, Alex told her.

“ _Yeah, I figured shit was about to hit the fan”_ , her voice sounded like she was barely keeping herself together. _“What's going on?”_

“Mind-controlling gas”, the terrorist explained, “Make sure you are in a safe location and get into a high altitude. The stuff's going to be denser than air to work, so make sure you _stay away_ from the streets.”

Dana sniffed.  _“Okay. I'll do that. Alex? Can you come back once this is over?”_

“I'll be there. You just stay safe, Dana.”

Cole made a strangled noise at the scent of the black tar. His head started hurting again, and he quickly pulled himself up to the roof of the abandoned Blue Canyon building. He saw thick green clouds of fog crawl through the street, and he heard people starting to scream.

He faintly heard something like pumps and slowly turned his head, watching a large hot-air balloon slowly drift past. There was a metal collar with a platform below attached to it, one that carried the tanks that constantly sprayed the gaseous tar.

“Got it”, he growled.

“On it”, Mercer replied. His arm shifted into that braided whip again, which he quickly pulled back to gather his strength. The balloon drifted closer to their position, Cole gasped once, then held his breathe to avoid accidentally swallowing any of the green gas. However, just like Alex said, it was denser than air and collected near the street- turning the people there into raving maniacs.

The whip shot out, metallic claws gleaming in the light of the sun. Cole had seen this weapon tear through grown men, through metal sheets and vehicles alike with no problem. A  _balloon_ shouldn't be any trouble.

When the lethal organic whip collided with an invisible force field and bounced off without having any effect, both men only stared in surprise. More even, the single drone that was following after the balloon whipped around and flew into their direction, spewing bullets.

“Oh, what the Fuck?!” Alex ground out as he lashed his whip claw to the side to at least take out the UAV targeting them. “What is up with this thing?!”

Cole groaned. “Wonderful!” He tapped his phone, calling John. “Hey, John. We found the balloon. Spraying gas everywhere, turning the people in the streets into raving maniacs. But even Mercer couldn't damage the damn thing!”

“ _Great. Give me a moment-”_ John cut himself off with a click of his tongue. _“There it is. Looks like the First Sons have developed a sort of electromagnetic force field. The technology's not perfected yet- enough damage can break it, though it will regenerate quickly enough. In other words, find out how to break the shield, then you can take out the balloon.”_

Cole snorted. “And then we go after Kessler!”

“ _First things first, Cole.”_ Yeah. Where did he hear _that_ one before, huh?

The courier lunged off the building to get a higher point and have a better view of the balloon. Alex followed after him with a disgruntled snort.

“You heard what John said, do you think you can bludgeon this force field into submission?” Cole asked once the two of them reached the roof of a hotel.

“It would be possible”, the terrorist replied thoughtfully, however I fear it would take too much time.” He glanced upwards to the dark clouds overhead. “It's an electromagnetic force field, though. Like your shield. I think a strong enough electrical current could short it out too.”

A strong electrical current...like his lightning strike, for example?

“Okay”, Cole shifted his feet away from the other and curled his fists. “Stand back, this is gonna be _raw_.” Lightning snapped out of his arms and flooded through his body. The clouds crackled once- and a massive pillar of lightning slammed hard into the balloon. The shield managed to withstand it for whooping three seconds, before it gave in. At the same time, the backlash also cut the energy flow of the lightning, shorting it out too.

But it had been enough, the shield was down. In a sudden, rapid movement, Alex lunged at the balloon. His whip claw melted in one smooth motion and turned into the massive sword Cole had seen a few times before.

The weapon hit the balloon at full force and full speed, and found no resistance at all. The reinforced skin shattered under the blow, the metal contraption attached to it groaned once- and dropped into the street in a cacophony of bursting materials. Cole rushed to the edge, hoping to see a glimpse of his ally when Alex already rocketed out of the dense mist on the ground, then easily dashed through the air to return to the courier.

When he hit the roof with a solid  _thud_ , Cole couldn't help but feel a little bit envious at the sight- he could not easily screw over every known law of physics like Mercer did on a daily basis.

“Doesn't look too good”, the terrorist muttered, glancing back down.

“What do you mean?”

“The people are _mad_ down there”, he explained. “During the one second I was near them, they immediately tried to swarm me. Despite me having the blade out.” He snorted. “I can only guess it's the same with you. So watch out- make sure they don't see you, or else they _will_ try to murder you.”

Cole's expression darkened. What did Kessler want with this? Why did he turn innocent civilians into raving maniacs?

Was it really as they assumed? A _testing_ _ground_ to force him use his abilities? But what for? Cole had no idea, other than his hatred for Kessler was starting to reach unknown heights. How _dare_ he fucked with him? Sending Death Squads after him, threatening people, _mindfucking_ them to send them after him- _killing Trish_. Cole was going to kill him for this. He was going to kill him without mercy. No matter what Kessler thought would justify _this_ \- Cole would show no sympathy. No, Kessler was going to die, and Empire was going to be _free_.

“ _Good work”_ , John claimed. _“The gas isn't very long-living, and will be cleared up soon. But there's another balloon over in the Warren. Get over to it before the whole thing spins out of control.”_

“I think it already is out of control”, Cole replied darkly. “All we can do now is damage control.”

“ _You better hurry then.”_

Cole leapt off the roof and hit the train tracks below in a roll. He was back upright and standing within one heartbeat, and wasted no time to hop atop the rails and kick off the floor. Lightning arched out of his calves and feet, and he leaned to the front. More static electricity snapped out of his palms, and the wind rushed past him as he sped up with the help of his thrusters. He knew he was going faster than thirty miles, maybe forty, but he also knew that Mercer was close. He had heard him impact into the ground shortly after he kicked off the rail, and he could also hear the sound of him tearing along the street beneath the tracks, despite the roar of wind in his ears.

He leaned his body to the side to take the curve ahead of him without tumbling off the tracks, then quickly checked the area. He could sense First Sons all over the place, rushing after them to try to shoot them, but both men were simply  _too fast_ for them to get to them in time. Though right now, he didn't have any nerve for them.

God knew he would  _love_ to murder these fucks, but right now, there was damage control needed.

“ _Cole?”_ His back crawled, and his expression darkened quickly. Zeke? What the Fuck?! Cole ground his teeth together, trying to focus on the track in front of him to avoid crashing. _“Listen man, I didn't know what was going to happen to Trish. I swear it.”_ He actually sounded _sorry_. But this was _Zeke_. And Cole had long learnt that that bastard was easily able to manipulate him to his own gains.

“ _Are you there, Cole?”_ , Zeke asked carefully. _“C'mon. Say somethin'.”_

Cole let out a low growl. He didn't want to talk to Zeke. No. Too much had happened- his faith in him had shattered. He had thought he could count on him, but he couldn't. Now he was gone and  _Trish was dead_ .

“ _Guess I'm the last person you want to talk to right now.”_ Good. Looks like somebody got the message. _“Anyway, I'm sorry. Nothing happened like I thought it would. Story of my life, I guess.”_

Cole snarled enraged, his vision bleeding to red. As always- always Zeke, Zeke,  _Zeke._ He had been his best friend, damnit. They had been through so much, had always been together- Cole had risked his ass for him several times, even before everything happened- and what for?!

For him to betray him just like that?!

He roared out in rage and anguish. One day- one day had been enough for his entire world to break to pieces. Zeke gone, Trish dead.

A group of First Sons just below the train track caught his attention, and Cole leapt off to descent into them in a flurry of lightning. Most of the guys were dead before they managed to turn around, and the remaining ones he downed with a violent discharge.

“Cole”

With a snarl, he whipped around, hoping to find more of these fucks to fry, but there weren't any. Lightning crackled around him, slamming ever so often into the ground around him.

“Cole!”

He whipped around, eyes narrowing on the shape of Alex Mercer. The terrorist stood there with a deep frown on his face.

“What?!” The courier snapped. There was so much rage inside him. Rage that had to get out.

“You're losing yourself. You can't allow this”, Mercer pointed out.

“So? What does this interest you?!”

The other man inclined his head. “I've been there”, he told him. “With only rage and hatred going through my mind. It's not very good. Clouds your head. And if you don't pay attention, you will become worse than them. Your powers are too great. If you aren't careful, they will control you.” He frowned a bit deeper. “Just look at your lightning.”

Cole scoffed, but still cast his eyes down. He froze when he noticed the color of his powers had changed. It wasn't blue and white anymore, it was crimson and orange now.

“Holy-” His rage quickly vanished back into the confines of his mind, where it continued to lurk as an ever-throbbing low simmering flame.

Alex huffed out. “This happened before, every time your anger comes to a boiling point.” He cocked his head, cold blue eyes watching him. “I am not going to lie- I don't know what's going on inside you, I don't understand the emotions you have. But I know you just lost everyone who ever meant anything to you, and I know you are upset. But losing your head won't salvage anything.” He tilted his head into the opposite direction. “If Kessler gets to you, he will have no problems taking you down, Cole. Don't give him any chance to fuck up your brain, or  _he will win_ .”

He was right. Plus, there were still these balloons to take care of. The courier was trembling when the rage subsided again. The color of his lightning slowly shifted back to its original blue tone.

“Okay”, he ground out once he was sure he had calmed down enough. “Okay. Let's do this.”

It wasn't just  _him_ Kessler screwed over. He couldn't forget about the balloons. He couldn't forget about the innocent people Kessler threatened. He couldn't lose himself in his rage. No matter how frustrating it was, but raging wouldn't help anyone here- especially not him.

He exhaled again, then climbed back onto the rail tracks. He couldn't let Kessler have his way with the people of Empire City. He had to stop him.

* * *

 

Alex always had a unique view of mankind. He wasn't one himself, but he could pass as one easily as long the amount of humans around was large enough so he didn't stand out. Being a predator, he couldn't hide completely, but what he had was more than enough.

He was able to read a person like an open book. It wasn't only the subtle change of facial muscles, or the twitch in the limbs, it was also that he was able to pick up the sound of their heart beat and the scent of different hormones inside their body, and he knew of the way they worked, so he could easily figure out what they were thinking.

It was impossible to lie to him. It was impossible to trick him. It was impossible to hide from him.

This was why he  _knew_ what was going on inside the younger man's head. The rage and agony about losing his lover drove him to seek out the man who killed her for vengeance. But it was a double-edged sword. He must have been aware of how he wrecked his own body through his constant raging. On his quest for vengeance, the courier neglected his basic demands, like food, water and sleep. How long would he be able to keep running like that? Alex had seen Blackwatch soldiers able to go for days without any sleep- and those did not have super powers. On the other side, Cole was a bicycle courier, and despite being athletic, he didn't have the same grueling military training. 

He had to keep a close eye on him, to make sure he would live to see the moment he tore Kessler's head off his body.

Somewhere along the line, he realized that this probably was what Kessler planned.  _Evolve or die_ . He wanted to force the younger to adapt to this situation. Again, it wasn't to break him, it was to make him  _stronger_ . To face the Beast? How could Kessler know of this? How could Kessler be  _sure_ that all of this happened? How could he have been so certain the Blast would activate the conduit gene and not just kill the young man?

Something was  _wrong_ with Kessler. He smelled incredibly familiar, had the same powers as Cole had, but it just didn't make  _sense._ Alex couldn't put his finger on it, he was missing a clue, a central piece of what was going on.

He was certain that he could solve it as soon he'd got his claws on the older conduit, but there was a lot to do before that. They still hadn't gotten the Ray Sphere, and the First Sons were running amok in the Historic. Before they could get to Kessler, they had to solve these problems first.

And the most pressing problem were the balloons.

The second one was drifting  _too close_ to the Bayview, so Cole hurried up beyond what should have been comfortable to him.

Once they've gotten into position, Alex yanked a car off the street and downed the drone circling the balloon, followed up by the courier zapping the shield to fry it. Alex then lunged upwards and tore the machine to pieces, letting its pieces scatter across the street. Someone would clean that up later.

Down below, they could see the gas already thinning, but the people were still raging across the city, looking for him and Cole to rip apart. But they couldn't help them here- they had to wait until the effect had faded.

“ _Good work”_ , White commented over the phone. _“That'll slow the spread of the toxin in this borough, but there are two more balloons. Damn, Kessler must have drained Sasha dry to produce that much toxin.”_

“Hope she's dead”, Cole growled irritated. “I'm in no mood to tango with her again.”

Probably not, but she would be weakened. And a weakened prime conduit was easier to consume than a healthy one. Alex smirked unpleasantly. Once they had Kessler, he would take care of Sasha too, make her pay for what she had done.

They rushed over to the Neon, where the last two balloons were. The first one was spraying its toxins all over the northern part, near the Smith Fountain. The drone's alarm went off and it tilted to the side to assault them. Cole was faster than the drone, though: With a single precision shot, he fried its on-board systems, crashing it. Then Alex noticed the automatic turret attached to the metal platform just in time. He lunged in front of the courier, swallowing up the bullets.

“Shit! Are they trying to kill us?” Cole shouted.

“Probably”, Alex replied irritated. He shoved the courier behind a building, while the shots tapered off. “Those balloons are important to Kessler.”

Cole growled under his breath, and quickly scaled the building to get closer to the balloon. He summoned another lightning bolt and devastated the force field. Alex easily took the balloon out then, sending rubble and pieces of twisted metal sprawling everywhere.

The last balloon was hovering near the Stampton bridge. As they drew closer, Cole lifted his hand. “Hey”, he said, “Not wanting to take away your fun, but I'm still pretty pissed off. Let me have the last one.”

Alex lifted an eyebrow, then stepped back with a subtle tilt of his head. The courier planted both feet into the roof top and effortlessly downed the UAV following the balloon with a single powerful lightning bolt. Then the smell of ozone grew stronger, and the sky darkened once again. Lightning arched away from the courier and focused along his arms. Cole lifted both fists before he yanked them down, summoning a powerful pillar of lightning. The loud thunder clap drowned out the shriek of energy as the strike began to short out the balloon's defense. Like before, the sheer amount of power released cut its own supply, so the massive bolt of lightning vanished with a loud thunder clap. However, this time, MacGrath instantly summoned a second pillar of lightning. The super-charged column of static energy tore through the thin metal sheets like they weren't even there. The gas inside the balloon- cheap hydrogen instead of helium- was set ablaze in an instant. With the air oxygen mingling with the hydrogen, the static electricity met a highly volatile gas. An explosion tore the silence following the thunder clap asunder, super-heated air roared through the Neon, shattering windows several blocks down the road and knocking over people and cars.

For a short moment, there was no air to breathe around them. The balloon dropped as a flaming wreck into the bay, water churning violently from the contact. MacGrath glanced at it, before he slowly turned to Alex.

“Think Kessler noticed this?”

Alex's lips arched upwards in a smirk. He could enjoy a good explosion- Hell, there were too many pyromaniacs inside his head not to. “I'm pretty sure the entirety of Empire noticed it.”

“Good”, the courier exhaled. “Let this be a warning to all to never fuck with me.”

He swung around and headed to a fuse box to drain it dry, while Alex watched the people below. There hadn't been anyone nearby when Cole blew up the balloon, but now they were slowly coming closer. He knew the gas was still affecting them, but had no idea how to remedy that- asides from killing them. The only other option was to simply wait it out- the gas wasn't all too lasting, and even in its original tar form the effect cleared up within a few hours. As long the unaffected humans, as well as him and MacGrath, wouldn't go anywhere near them, the situation should clear up quickly enough. A part of him scoffed though, knowing fully well that most people were  _too stupid_ to realize that all these idiots down there needed was simply time and rest for their bodies to break down the gas inside their blood streams. But this wasn't  _his_ problem. Or Cole's.

He snorted and turned to his ally, who seemed a little bit calmer now. His eyes were narrowed, as he glanced around. “What now?”

“I think White would be the best bet. We still don't know _where_ the Ray Sphere is.”

The courier blinked, and his expression drew into a frown. “Don't you have a way to figure that out?”

There was a shaking tone in his voice, hidden behind his question, but Alex still picked it up. He was still terrified of him, something that probably wouldn't ever go away, but he realized it as the lesser of the terrors around. Still, there was a tiny problem with the otherwise perfect idea.

“Most of the Sons have no fucking idea”, he told the courier in all seriousness. “As in, Kessler doesn't trust them with valuable information to such a degree, they don't even know _who_ might have an idea. They are not allowed to talk about this.”

“Oh”, the younger man's brows furrowed. “So you're meaning to say- you can't figure it out?”

“Well, I could probably, but that would include a copious amount of luck, because all I can do is chew my way through the First Sons and hope I get one who has an idea. But then again, it would be possible that Kessler realizes what is going on and hides the Sphere again, and it would turn into a never-ending cycle.” In the end, Alex would still probably win this, because the amount of First Sons was finite, after all. However, he was not too keen on trying to consume an entire army- he could not compress his Biomass without end, after all. A small part of him wondered what would happen if he tried- but the answer to this question was obvious: Manhattan. He would need to shed off the excessive Biomass to remain human, so he would either need to create a Hive to store the mass, or turn into something inhuman, much like Greene did. He didn't really want to do either.

So they needed to find another way to find the Ray Sphere. Maybe...track its energy signature? It would be possible, and a much faster way to do. They would just need to right equipment.

John White. He inclined his head at the thought, turning it over in his mind for a bit. The NSA agent was a good lead, no matter his own ideas in the matter. He turned to Cole. “Call White”, he told him. “We'll need some sort of tracker to find the Sphere. If he had been working on retrieving it, I'm certain he'll have something that might help us.”

The courier nodded once and picked the agent's number.

“ _Cole”_ , White greeted, _“I've seen the explosion, so I guess the balloons are history?”_

“Yes”, MacGrath replied. “Listen- Alex mentioned you'd might be able to help with the Ray Sphere. Can you?”

“ _Mercer's right- and good timing, too. I just finished rigging up an old police chopper with some surveillance gear.”_ He paused for a moment before continuing. _“Should help us pinpointing the Ray Sphere's location.”_

Alex saw the younger man frown. “You sure that's going to work?”

The agent actually chuckled amused.  _“Look, I spent months following Kessler around, copying his notes_ .” Really? Alex's eyebrows shot up. If White got himself killed, then getting the information off his brain was the best course of action, one even MacGrath should agree to.  _“With the rig I've got on this chopper, and you riding shotgun, then yeah. We'll find it.”_ White cleared his throat.  _“Mercer not, I'm afraid. The chopper's pretty old and already groaning under the weight of the stuff I installed, so it's out of question taking a three-ton supermutant with it.”_

Alex scoffed. “Please. I can easily  _outrun_ an Apache. It won't be a problem to follow you around. I don't need an old Police chopper.” Plus, Apaches and Blackhawks were where his heart was. He loved those things, maybe even more than the Thermobaric tank.

“ _Good, then meet me at the old Ashford Building in the Historic District.”_

“Understood”, Cole acknowledged and ended the call. “Historic, huh?” He furrowed his brows somewhat, then glanced at Alex. “Guess we have to pass back through the Warren, then?”

“I don't think so”, the Runner pointed out. “Some engineers have suspended a high-voltage cable from the Neon to the Historic, near the remains of the Fremont Bridge. Should make it possible for you to cross.”

“Perfect. Let's go and find that damned Ray Sphere.”

Cole set into motion, lunging off the building towards the facade of the taller across the alley. He scrabbled for a short moment with his feet against the smooth side, until he found purpose on a window sill. Then he threw his body upwards and towards the roof.

Alex glanced back towards the Stampton Bridge, then followed after the courier.

* * *

 

Cole had returned to the subway tracks and quickly mounted it. After all, they were at the opposite end of the Neon, and had to hurry. The railroad was the fastest way to do so. His blood was roaring in his ears, and his pulse throbbed at the inside of his skull.

Honestly, he felt like shit, but was unwilling to take it slow. He had to finish this, had to find the Ray Sphere and Kessler, had to free Empire City from their grasp. Then he would be able to rest.

So he pushed himself to go faster, to reach the Ashford Building. From afar he already saw the destroyed remains of the Fremont Bridge. His heart clenched a little, like every time he'd seen it, at the memories of all the people he inadvertently killed. Their blood was on his hands- and Kessler's. Killing Kessler would also put the people here to rest, he was certain.

His eyes noticed the pair of cables suspended across the rubble-filled water. He leaned his body to the side, then leapt off the train tracks at full speed. The cable was narrow and swayed in the strong breeze, but Cole managed to stick to the landing, using his thrusters to balance himself. He barely lost his speed through this, and was already zipping across the churning waters below. A part of his brain was worried that he might fall off, or the wire might snap and send him careening into the water to his watery grave, but the part that was currently consumed with the raging urge to murder Kessler easily overwrote it and kept him moving.

Faintly, he heard Mercer kick off the ground behind him, then the flapping of his leather jacket as he soared after him. He was certain that it wasn't  _real_ leather, but rather something like leather. Something made of the stuff Mercer himself was made of. At any rate, that guy never needed to change his clothes, no matter what happened to him. Powers like that would be helpful for his own closet, he thought when he remembered the countless bullet holes, cuts, tears, dirt and scorch marks on his own, once pristine yellow jacket.

There was a disgruntled growl about halfway across, and he couldn't help but glance back, surprised to see his partner already dropping too low to the surface. But then Alex arched his body and stretched his legs to the front, hitting the water with the power of a truck. The speed he went at, his weight and sheer amount of force in his motion was too much for the liquid to move away in time, so for a split second the surface was more like a concrete field.

Enough for Mercer to literally jump off the water like it was solid ground, and resume his movement. He hit the devastated shore at the other side before Cole reached it, but stopped there and waited for him to catch up. Cole glared at him for a moment, even as he continued speeding along. “Show-off.”

Mercer chuckled and easily followed after him. “Which one of us blew up that balloon to rattle the entire Neon, huh?”

Despite the grim thoughts in his head, Cole actually found himself giving off a short laughter. Yeah, he really had blown up that balloon for closure and to mark his territory, but mostly just to tell everybody that he was the strongest and biggest thing out there.

However, his mood fell instantly and a knot formed in his throat, constricting his airway, as they drew closer to the crater. Six blocks simply  _gone_ , thousands dead. Kessler killed them, and Cole had been the weapon he used. Without Cole, the Ray Sphere would never have activated.

It was Cole's fault these people were dead. So it was Cole's job to avenge them, to clear his consciousness and murder Kessler.

_Beep_

_Beep_

_**Beep** _

Cole and Alex both paused, eyes drawn downwards, where a several plate-sized flat circular objects sat on the ground, beeping happily.

“Oh”, Mercer muttered in disbelief.

“Mines”, Cole finished.

Both men jerked back, Cole slower than the viral supermutant, who somehow managed to not only turn around, but also grab the younger man and yank him backwards before the courier even managed to step back. The sudden change of direction made his insides slam uncomfortably against his ribs as Mercer effortlessly pulled him away, just in time to get them into safe distance when all mines exploded in a flurry of fire.

This must have been the sign for the First Sons, because out of nowhere these bastards suddenly swarmed the two of them. Cole assumed it was the amount of trash metal around that messed up with his radar senses why he didn't realize they were close.

Alex probably didn't sense them either, because the whole districts likely stank of First Sons. Cole swore and flopped to the ground at the whistle of mortar shells, while Mercer crouched low and shifted his arms into massive flat shields.

There was no explosion, but rather the uncanny hiss of gas. Several small cans clattered around on the floor, hissing when red clouds rushed out of them. Cole accidentally inhaled some of it and choked briefly. It stung in his nose and made his eyes tear, but didn't appear to be too harmful. It just smelled bad and lowered the visibility to nearly zero, so he couldn't see anything further away than eight feet.

There was a pained groan from his side, and he saw Alex stumble back, his shields corroding away before his eyes. But it didn't just stay there- the gas was violently eating its way through the Supermutant, turning parts of him to ash just as his self-healing fixed him back together.

And suddenly, Cole understood. Kessler not only managed to turn Sasha's mind-controlling tar into a weapon- he also extracted her red tar. The only thing besides Kessler's own attacks that ever seemed to actually harm Mercer.

“Shit! Alex!” He had already whirled around halfway, when a high-speed bullet slammed hard into his back, sending him stumbling. At the same time, he witnessed a shotgun shot literally taking off Mercer's head, bits of black flying everywhere. The gas started eating away at him even faster, with his healing kicking in and trying to repair the damage- but Cole could see the small tentacles already breaking away even before they finished.

_Fuck!_

The courier lunged at the closest First Son he could vaguely see, slamming his electrical blades deep into his chest to down him. But they were  _everywhere_ , and he could barely see them, while they seem to have no trouble to spy him through the dense cloud of red. Bullets bit into his back, and he swung around, aiming to take the bastard's head right off, when someone fired a rifle right into his torso, downing him.

Cole slammed hard into the ground with pain exploding from his chest. His vision had turned gray, and his blood was roaring in his ears, but he instantly tried to squirm away from the First Sons. The gas was taking his breath and his sight, but he wouldn't give up. His ally needed his help, damn it! Cole ground his teeth together and slammed blindly his hands to the front, creating a powerful shockwave. It threw the men backwards, giving him the time he needed to fix his body. He was back on his feet instantly, sending out pulses of his radar to lock in on these bastards. He leapt at the closest one, hands closing claw-like against his temples to fry his brain. In an heartbeat, he slammed another shockwave into the other Sons to keep them down.

That was when he heard one of them scream, followed by the tell-tale God-awful sound of flesh tearing. The other men froze, eyes blown wide beneath their masks, as they witnessed something grow in the dense clouds around them. Suddenly, it lunged, and Cole stopped when he recognized the tell-tale shape of Alex Mercer pounce on the closest guy.

He was still inside the gas that was  _killing_ him, but he was currently busy murdering the First Sons, without even thinking of removing himself from the stuff.

Cole gasped involuntarily when he realized that Mercer was still missing  _half his head_ , as well as parts of his ribcage. His legs both looked more skeletal, probably held together by sheer force of will, and one arm was missing too.

It didn't stop him though, as he was violently tearing through the First Sons, devouring every single of those he got between his claws. The courier could see the battle between the terrorist's body and the deadly gas that continued killing him off, but then he realized that his tentacles regrew his body faster than the cloud could destroy it.  _It's like a strong germicide_ , Alex had said back in the Jefferson tunnel. He was, in essence, a germ himself, so it was lethal to him- but now it appeared as if it had less and less effect on him.

Like those multi-resistant bacteria that laugh about antibiotics then, Mercer grew  _resistant_ to the stuff.

Realizing he wasn't needed here anymore, Cole turned his attention back to the First Sons, and threw his body out of the cloud to target those that had the mortars. He slammed a series of powerful lightning bolts into them to make them back off, seconds before a half-decayed black whip with steel-like nails shot out of the gas and sliced in a half-circle through all the approaching Sons.

“Holy shit”, the young man gasped at the sight of dozens of bodies hitting the floor in wet splats. He really should have learnt that the other guy was a living weapon, but he wouldn't have believed that he was still deadly as fuck, even when weakened. Cole turned slightly, eyes widening at the sight of Alex stepping out of the already thinning cloud of gaseous red tar. He was still partial skeletal, with his clothes and skin and muscles (or whatever he had instead of them) missing from his chest, so his ribs were clearly visible. His skull was just in the process of regenerating, and Cole could see black and red knitting his body back together.

Mercer inhaled once his head had sufficiently grown back, sucking in great amounts of the red gas before he snorted it out, almost like a smoker, though his nostrils.

“That”, he commented, and his voice sounded even rougher as it did before (his voice box must have been in the process of repairing itself at the moment). “Was uncomfortable.”

Cole's jaw dropped slightly. “ _Uncomfortable_ ?” He bit out, “You  _melted_ !”

Mercer just shrugged, and his chest simply grew back his grimy hoodie. “I did. That stuff did burn through my Biomass faster than Bloodtox, but...” He snorted, “The First Sons weren't clever enough to stay out of my way.”

Holy shit. Cole gasped involuntarily at the realization that his ally was one fucked-up thing. He had, more or less casually, adapted to something that would have had the power to kill him, while murdering a bunch of guys at the same moment.

He was just glad Alex was on his side, because really, it would suck hard trying to take him down.

Maybe he would have had a shot in the beginning, but now? He only grew stronger with every foe. Cole felt sorry for those guys that had to face him in Manhattan. He really did.

He didn't feel sorry for the First Sons, though. And he didn't have time to do so, either. They still had to meet with John, and they had to find that blasted Ray Sphere.

He could sort through this entire shit  _after_ Kessler was dead.

 


	27. Hunt for the Ray Sphere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last mission for the day, then we can hopefully concentrate on Kessler.

**Hunt for the Ray Sphere**

 

Whatever was left of opposition between them and the Ashford building was cleared out laughable easy. Cole witnessed the First Sons try to use the red tar gas twice, and both times Alex only flinched slightly at contact, before he went on to utterly decimate the bastards.

A small shred of his mind wondered just why the Hell he met their messy and entirely violent ends with such apathy, but the larger part of him realized that, without the First Sons, Trish would be still alive.

The portion of him that was screaming at him to protect his fellow  _humans_ from the raging monster fell silent. Good, because these bastards didn't deserve a shred of mercy, not even from his own regret. And even though he knew how  _wrong_ this was, he didn't feel anything anymore.

Alex yanked one of the First Sons off the floor. He was already missing both legs and was bleeding heavily, but was still conscious. Mercer glared at him like one would glare at a particularly large cockroach, before he cocked his head and effortlessly slammed those God-awful tentacles into the man's skull and chest. Cole grimaced briefly and turned away, not willing to witness  _that_ , and instead turned his attention elsewhere while the screams behind him were abruptly cut off with a fleshy tearing sound and the cracking of bones.

He waited until he couldn't hear those tendrils slither against each other before he asked. “Anything?”

“They noticed White rig up the chopper”, Mercer replied easily, as if reading it off from somewhere. “They are prepared to take him down as soon he's low enough for their missile launchers.”

“Oh well”, Cole stretched and cracked his knuckles. “Let's spoil their fun.”

They made their way over to the Ashford Building. The seven story tall complex sat in front of them, the historic-styled facade allowing for easy access. Cole remembered it from his earliest days as Urban Explorer- because of its easy accessible architecture, this was one of the first buildings he ever climbed. He easily pulled himself up and heaved his body over the roof edge three seconds later. There was a muffled crack below, moments before Mercer rocketed upwards and hit the roof with a solid  _thud_ .

Cole swayed slightly from the shock of the impact, but didn't say anything. He doubted Alex was aware of the random destruction he caused by just moving about. Instead of saying a word, he just huffed out and turned his head into the direction the viral terrorist was glaring. He picked up the faint beating of a helicopter rotor.

“ _Took you long enough”_ , White's voice came through his phone. _“What happened?”_

“We ran into some trouble”, Cole replied, watching how the chopper soared around a taller building, “But nothing we couldn't handle. Slowed us down, though.”

The helicopter finally came into full view, allowing Cole to scan it. White had attached a something of a metal cage, or platform, beneath his chopper. There was a large generator fixed to it, as well as something that looked like satellite dishes under the platform. Two spotlights were on either side of the cage, and the chopper's own search light was swiveling across the roof. Cole could hear the helicopter strain against the additional weight, but it seemed safe enough.

“ _Get on”_ , John ordered through the phone.

“Quite the setup you got going there”, Cole commented as he easily hopped onto the swinging platform. A strong electric current ran through the metal, and Cole cringed slightly when he remembered the prison and Trish's bus had the same setup. And, in both cases, things went south entirely too fast.

“ _Got no other choice”_ , John replied with a sigh. _“Kessler positioned a mobile jammer on each island and that damn thing's cloaked.”_

“They are masking the frequency of the Ray Sphere”, Alex threw in, eyes narrowing. “Which is why nobody can find it, correct?”

“ _Yeah. I'm going to use the dishes at the bottom to find them, then Cole has to go down and destroy them. You, Mercer, your job is to make sure we stay in the air.”_

“Can do that”, Alex acknowledged.

“ _Good, let's not waste any more time.”_ The helicopter shuddered once as it set into motion, and the platform swung through the air. Cole braced himself briefly against one of the four poles that formed the sides of the thing, until he had gotten a feeling for the motion. White wasn't going too fast, and his inhuman sense of balance helped him a lot, but he couldn't deny that it was pretty complicated to stay there.

He glanced to the side, watching how Alex started moving. He went slow first, casually jogging to the middle of the roof before he ducked low and started to sprint. There was something about his movement that told Cole he wasn't used to running casually. Too blocky, too robotic, the shoulders were always tense, like he was expecting to get attacked any given moment. Cole saw him dash up the side of a taller building, then he catapulted himself off. And that was when the picture of him changed.

In the air, shooting upwards or across half a block with a single bound the viral Supermutant actually looked like this was his preferred way of movement. It was seamless, graceful even (as graceful as something could be that probably weighed a ton) and much faster than his own way of motion.

It was impressive, especially when the guy simply changed trajectory without even touching the ground. Whatever the virus was, it was one Hell of a thing.

“ _Cole”_ , John cut into his musings, _“Pay close attention to your friend. Let him take care of any opposition we might face.”_

“I already decided to let him”, the courier replied with a frown, “But why not me?”

“ _The main problem is that you shouldn't leave the platform unless I tell you to”_ , the agent explained. _“The timing is important- if we make one mistake, Kessler will move the jammers and we're back to square one.”_

“Understood.” Cole's attention snapped to a few guys who stood on the roof of an abandoned building. Even from a distance, he could see the missile launchers shine in the sun. He lifted his palm and fired a single lightning bolt, not to down them, but to blind them- and mark their position.

The entire building shook when Alex crushed the guys into paste beneath his weight, then he swung around and lashed out his whip-like claw to effortlessly slice through another guy who stood in a dead angle, and thus invisible to Cole.

“ _As I scan for each jammer, we'll have to be pretty close to the ground”_ , John commented dryly as Mercer pounced back on top of another building, eyes glowing as he scanned the immediate area. _“It won't hurt if you too keep an eye on our back. Once I have its location, we'll be able to speed up again.”_

“Don't worry”, Cole replied at the sight of Mercer suddenly lunging off the roof. The screams of the First Sons were clearly audible even over the roar of the helicopter engine. “Looks like Alex got this covered.”

He turned his head slightly and casually threw out his arm, creating a powerful shockwave that reflected a single missile back to its origin. “Me too, by the way”, he added as the explosion took out the few Sons on that roof.

White pulled the helicopter to the side, so it headed right over the bay and towards the Warren. Cole furrowed his brows. “I thought we'll start with the Historic?”

“ _We probably should have, but my system's old and it needs a bit to find the scanners. The one I already found is over in the Warren. Besides, I don't want to risk staying in one district for too long, lest we want Kessler to notice it.”_

Cole glanced back, just in time to see Alex leap on top of one of the warehouses along the dock, before the guy ducked low and froze for a few solid seconds. Then he suddenly rocketed straight upwards before he started to soar after them, trailing red mist.

“ _Damn”,_ John commented, _“I'm really glad he's on our side. We wouldn't be around if he wasn't.”_

“Yeah” Cole absentmindedly rubbed his neck. “Guess you did hear stories about the entire FUBAR in Manhattan.”

“ _Not really. Blackwatch was very careful to cover it up as much as possible.”_

“Then how-” He trailed off when the chopper swung a bit to the side, then flew over the Adams Building. He paused, realization set in. “You've been there. In Manhattan.”

John sighed.  _“I was. Hell of a thing. Have been stationed at Battery Park, wasn't allowed to go out into the city. Blackwatch didn't like me being without supervision, and they didn't let me join in on the important stuff.”_

“And?”

“ _Let me tell you, I always thought stuff was being weird over there. I mean I saw the things that took over the city. Mercer's far from that. Less monster, less zombie- more...human. Not saying he's a good guy, but in any case, he was better than Blackwatch or the zombies roaming the streets. Never saw him face-to-face until you guys met me. Though I have heard he had been dangerously close a few times.”_ He clicked his tongue. _“Last thing I heard of him was that he got himself blown up with a God-damn nuke. Blackwatch then kicked me out without ever telling me what the Hell went on. One year later there was something in Manhattan again, but I hadn't been in the states at that time. Just heard rumors that Mercer resurfaced. Blackwatch kept real tight lips around that. Guess the rumors were true though.”_

The chopper flew past the Coleridge college, just in time for Alex to launch himself to the roof of the octagonal tower. “Would it hurt you to  _not_ talk about me when I'm in ear shot?” He requested gruffly.

“Hey, it would have been out of earshot for normal people”, Cole commented, crossing his arms. “Though- did you find anything?”

“The place reeks of First Sons”, the terrorist replied as he easily kept up with the flying helicopter, soaring next to it, “Without Alden, the Dustmen are easy prey- and the Sons have marched in here.” His pale blue eyes narrowed on Cole. “And I can smell a lot of them nearby- so be careful.”

“ _Well, it ain't a coincidence”_ , John commented, _“That's where the first jammer is- head down and take it out.”_

“Finally”, Cole grit out. He pounced off the platform and dropped several stories to hit the street in a slightly awkward crouch. Holy shit, his legs were still shaking from the way he had to balance himself on the swinging metal grate. With a snort and a short charge through his legs, he managed to get them stop trembling.

A group of First Sons noticed him and started to charge straight towards him, but Cole didn't even need to do something about them when a black blur collided with the floor next to them, tearing a deep crater and turning the Sons to paste. Mercer casually lifted himself from the devastation and simply spread his arms away from his body to shift them into his claws. “Shall we?”

Cole scoffed. “Stop stealing my kills, damnit.” The First Sons were  _his_ . They were responsible for Trish's death, after all, and no matter how grateful he was for Alex to take them out, he just wanted to murder all of them himself. Maybe he was being irrational, but all that rage and anger that was still curling through his guts had to go somewhere.

Mercer inclined his head. “Don't waste your anger on these lowly goons, Cole. Save it for Kessler. Plus”, he shrugged, then lashed his whip claw out to slice through another small group of First Sons, “There are enough of them to go around.”

The courier actually chuckled. Yeah. Mercer was right. And a good second place in who managed to take out most of them wasn't so bad either. The most important thing was that these guys got dead, and it didn't matter who did the deed as long it got done.

Both of them rushed through a narrow alleyway into a parking lot. Several First Sons spun around and brought up their guns. Cole was faster this time. He threw them back with a shockwave, then created several lightning bolts to fry them before they even hit the ground.

“Cole”, Alex called out, making him turn around.

“Yeah?”

“Here's the jammer”, the other pointed out. Cole glanced at the thing. It wasn't much more than a satellite dish attached to a tripod, with a computer unit to one side. A single explosive ball lightning shattered it to pieces.

“Okay. Took care of the first jammer”, he told John.

“ _Good. Get back here, so we can search for the next one”_ , the agent replied.

“I'm on my way”

* * *

 

By the time they returned to the helicopter, White had already finished scanning for the next jammer. He was efficient and fast, Alex had to admit. Maybe a little like Cross in his work, though weaker and much more cowardly.

He didn't trust him. After what happened in Manhattan, he had little trust left for governmental agencies anyways. But this wasn't enough to kill him in cold blood. He was going to watch him closely. And he was going to make sure that the Ray Sphere got destroyed.

For this, he followed after the chopper, keeping his eyes on the threats all around. The First Sons simply were  _everywhere_ , and they had enough dangerous equipment to rival even Blackwatch. But having the means and actually being able to use them were two different matters- especially when having to face Blacklight. Alex was moving faster than he usually did and certainly faster than they could react- tearing through men and material alike to prevent them from taking the helicopter out of the air. His internal body temperature was more like a furnace, firing up his Biomass and forcing it to work at near impossible levels, allowing him to reach speeds he usually was unable to do.

The bright spots around his wrists and shoulders were proof to that.

During the second outbreak, Alex had developed this handy trick from his emergency ability back during the first outbreak- the one he called Adrenaline Boost (which wasn't entirely true, he had no human hormones in his body) that allowed him to survive damage that would have been otherwise  _lethal_ to him- to fight the Supreme Hunter's Blacklight/Redlight creations. Increasing his own body temperature improved his speed and agility, and allowed him to ignore a certain amount of damage. At a cost though- the higher energy output burnt through his reserves a lot faster than doing this at his normal speed, forcing him to consume more. And even after his body calmed down again, he usually felt incredibly tired and required to rest, as his cells were forced to work at a higher activity, straining them. It wasn't too much of a problem, though he was vulnerable for a prolonged period of time, so he usually only did this when he was certain that there were no other threats once he finished.

In a way, this trick worked like a slow burning Devastator- it gave him powers for some time, but at the price of weakening him afterwards.

Alex hadn't used it since he slaughtered his own son and brother, yet here in Empire he had to use it to prevent his allies from being overwhelmed. Once they had found the last of these jammers, he would have to rest for a while.

But for now it would work. He hurled his body across a rooftop, just stopping to shoot out his Whipfist to grab a single First Son off the roof at the other side of the street. Alex reeled the man in and swiftly consumed him, then grabbed the missile launcher he had and rushed to the next building.

With his new weapon, he easily increased his total range of devastation, picking off guys all across the block. He heard the courier swear when the Runner blew up a group of First Sons almost directly next to him. But neither the man nor the helicopter had been in any danger from him- after all, Alex  _knew_ exactly how large the explosive range was, where to shoot to not harm his allies and which way the chopper took. All calculations that ran through his brain the very moment he spun around to face his next target.

He noticed another group trying to ambush the helicopter, and shot off the roof, throwing his body right over the chopper and his two allies. Within a heartbeat, he corrected his position to aim and fire his last rocket at the guys on the roof, blowing them all up. He hit the building hard and immediately bounced off again, sprinting up the next building. A single First Son swung around, aiming his anti-materiel rifle at the Runner. Alex instantly threw his own missile launcher like a javelin at the guy with so much force, it buried through his chest and remained there, pinning him to a roof exit.

Alex heard Cole and White swear under their breaths, and allowed himself to grin. Despite the grim situation, he found he was actually having  _fun_ . Utterly juvenile, dumb-as-a-post-fun, but  _fun_ none the less. Dana was  _right_ when she said that there was something  _seriously wrong_ with him.

Dana...Alex shook his head. He had to get back to her once they had destroyed the jammers. He actually had wanted to do so already, just to see whether she was okay, though after Kessler appeared, he wasn't fond of the idea to leave MacGrath all alone. His trip to the First Son's base had been very quick, and he took care to always stay in ear-shot of their old apartment. But he did call her, told her that he couldn't leave Cole without protection, and promised her to come as fast as possible. Dana was safe, for the moment. He would get to her once the jammers were taken care of.

As they crossed over into the Neon, Alex became aware that the Reapers were nowhere to be seen- and instead he only noticed the smell of First Sons. And blood. His eyes narrowed at the realization that these fucks had taken over the  _entire_ city, and that in an extremely short amount of time. The efficiency was incredible, and worrisome- if only  _one_ of them survived or got captured by DARPA, then it was entirely possible that Alex would have to face highly professional armies in the future. Not something he wanted to experience.

“ _Found the next jammer”_ , White commented, _“Go get them.”_

Cole lunged off the platform, and Alex followed after him. Like before, they found a group of First Sons guarding the jammer. And like before, all that was left of them was a massive stain of blood on the floor and body parts once he was done with them.

The courier turned his attention to the jammer and threw a lightning bolt into it to break it. That was when Alex's back went ramrod straight and his eyes narrowed. There was  _somebody_ there. Somebody who wasn't dead  _yet_ .

_But where?!_

He could hear the footsteps, muffled and careful, and coming right from...MacGrath's direction? His vision switched into the infrared spectrum, but too late as he just witnessed a man he  _couldn't see before_ level something to Cole's head. Alex instantly lashed out his Whipfist, gleaming tip shooting right towards the guy. Cole noticed the attack and instantly jerked back, just in time for Alex's lethal weapon to tear the First Son's head clean off. The shot went off, however, and a load of lead was unloaded into the courier's chest, throwing him back, so he hit the ground in a heap and didn't move anymore.

Alex instantly rushed over to the man, senses perked up to listen to a heartbeat, breathing-  _anything_ that told him he hadn't failed. The guy who had ambushed them was fizzling back into visibility with a shotgun next to his corpse. And that made him pause with a startled snarl.

A shotgun was a very powerful weapon from close-up, capable of taking off even  _his_ head. He didn't want to know what it would do to a guy who could not casually re-arrange his insides.

“Fu-ck” the courier groaned as Alex approached him. “Wha-what was that?”

“Invisible First Son”, the Runner replied, relieved to see the other man still conscious. “Used the distraction to sneak up on you. Shot you in the chest with a shotgun.”

The courier blinked, as if trying to focus on the Runner. “Shit- so that wasn't  _you_ ? I thought you went nuts.”

Alex scoffed. “I didn't.” He crouched down next to him. “I'm sorry I didn't notice him sooner- but  _invisibility_ wasn't exactly my idea of conduit abilities.”

Cole inhaled shakily, making the other man wince from the sound of his ribs creaking and his lungs whistle. “Crap, don't think I'm gonna move so soon here.”

It alarmed the Runner, who instantly placed one hand on the bleeding wound on the other's chest. “Ah fuck”, he growled. “Your lungs have holes in them and your sternum has been shattered.” He glanced at the courier. “Lethal to normal humans and you got lucky your bones shielded your heart.”

Cole grunted, and painfully sat up. “I'm not normal any more”, he groaned. “Just need some juice.” He craned his neck to the side, eying a car. “Hey, you might get me the battery over here? I don't think I'll be moving soon.”

Alex went over, wrenched the hood off and just yanked the battery out. “You think this'll fix you up? There isn't enough energy in here to keep a lamp running for less than a day.”

“I know. I did physics too”, was the reply, though he didn't stop from reaching out and draining the battery from its charge. The bleeding stopped almost immediately, and the shredded tissues beneath started fixing themselves. “Just enough to get me back to my feet- _Oof_.” With a grunt, he pulled himself back to his feet, though shakily. “Guess the whole Hero deal isn't cut out for me.”

“You're doing a better job than me”, Alex mentioned as the other managed to limp over to a fuse box to drain it. “At least you care for the people. And the people care for you. I don't give a flying fuck about them.”

“Maybe, but you aren't that much of a bad guy either”, Cole replied with a wince. Alex assumed his bones were just in the process of growing back together. “I mean, you really could be. Honestly, you have every right to do that, but you don't. And that-” he cut himself off with a swear, and Alex heard something snap inside his chest. “That means you're a better person than you believe yourself to be”, he finished slightly breathless. “Holy fuck, is that always supposed to _hurt_ that much?!”

* * *

 

Cole lied flat on the metal grate, staring dully up at the helicopter above him. Originally, he had wanted to continue with what he had done before, but when he had managed to climb back onto the grate, the world had spun out of control and forced him to lie down.

John had nearly thrown a fit, though Alex had ensured him that it was 'only' a minor concussion from the repeated hits he had gotten against the skull. He had probably blown out one of his inner ears too, which meant he had chosen to remain there until his insides had knitted themselves back together and the world wasn't spinning out of control anymore.

Cold air breezed over his chest and he shivered. His suit was damaged beyond repair- the shotgun shot from close up and torn several holes into the breast area, damaging even the strap of his bag a little.

He should be dead.

He knew how much power a shotgun packed. Capable of tearing through a grown man from close up, turn their insides to minced meat from the countless small balls of lead that just ate the tissues away. He hadn't been off much better. His skin was thicker and tougher, but the same didn't apply to his organs. The static electricity around his body had fended off the worst, but his insides had still gotten pretty messed up.

Not wanting to throw up the little food he had in his stomach, he was content for now just lying on his back and waiting for the electrical currents to feed his system and heal him back up, good as new.

Below, he could hear Alex rush across the roofs, and the screams of the First Sons when he took them out. Apparently, he had gotten his claws on another missile launcher, and was now happily blowing the ever-loving shit out of these bastards.

Cole frowned disgruntled, because he wanted to screw them up too, but his vision kept spinning out of focus every time he tried to get up, so he abandoned that idea very fast.

“ _Cole, did you know?”_ , John asked. He probably wanted to do some conversation, make sure he didn't fall asleep. For some reason, sleeping while concussed was a bad idea. Not that sleeping was on his mind, though.

“Mhm?”

“ _I was chasing after you the day of the Blast”_ , the agent told him. Cole's attention snapped to his voice. _“I heard that Kessler was going to take the Sphere out, and it took me hours to find it again. I followed you by motor bike, you know.”_

“Really?” He furrowed his brows.

“ _Yeah”_ , John sighed. _“To be bloody honest, I had already lined up my 9mm with your head. Double tap to the back of the skull, would have been quick and painless.”_

Cole jerked up, eyes wide in disbelief. “What? You tried to shoot me?!” The world spun out of control and he dropped back with a swear, willing his stomach to keep his breakfast down.

“ _This is what I was trained to do and I had to stop the Sphere from going up”_ , John told him. _“But I just couldn't. You were innocent, you know. So I couldn't murder you in cold blood.”_

The courier frowned. “Are you serious?!” Apparently, his second ally tried to kill him too. Must have been some sort of bonding ritual, one that included him getting out of lethal situations, before they finally got their shit together and did the right thing.

“ _I knew there were going to be a lot of dead people if that bloody Sphere would have blown, and you were too fast. I was lucky to find you where I did, so I couldn't really waste any time trying to stop you by other means. But like I said- I'm not that hard of an ass. I couldn't shoot you.”_

“And?” Cole's expression was set into a scowl, but he just couldn't find it in himself to be really _angry_. That had been in the past, John felt regretful, and he was still alive, so no hard feelings, right?

“ _I settled for going to shoot out your kneecap when the traffic light got green. You rode off and I ran back to my bike, but it refused to start. And once it did, you lost me at another red light.”_

“Guess I am lucky to still have my skull and my kneecaps”, Cole grunted, slowly rolling over to get to the edge and watch Alex. His friend was casually running along the side of a building, one arm stretched away for balance. But he could see the subtle set of his jaw and the tense shoulders, so apparently, he heard what John had been saying.

One red light. One red light was all that was needed to change  _everything_ . If John had stopped him, then they wouldn't be here now.

But was this true? According to Alex, Kessler had spent  _seventy years_ preparing for the Blast. Seven decades planning. He was damn sure that the Sphere would have exploded and given him his powers one way or the other.

And he couldn't be angry at John, not really, anyways. The man did his job, he tried to keep the Sphere away from those that tried to use it, and now put everything he had into finding and (hopefully) destroy it. If not, then he could still zap him afterwards, but right now, he was his best bet at finding the damn thing.

He inhaled deeply and slowly climbed to his feet. The vertigo had worn off and his body didn't hurt anymore. Just as he rolled his shoulders, he noticed a group of First Sons atop another roof. Without wasting time, he swung around and fired a ball lightning at them, blowing them right off the building.

“Okay”, he grunted. “I'm back. You found the next jammer already, John?”

“ _As a matter of fact, I did. We're heading there at the moment.”_

“Good.” The courier dropped back into his half crouch and the lightning that had been softly curling around his forearms now snapped out of his hands as he drained as much as he could to refill his batteries.

“ _Do you have any plans for getting out of the city after everything's done?”_ John asked.

Cole furrowed his brows. “Hell if I know.” He really had no idea. He never bothered thinking about the future, not in the past and not now, especially since he had no fucking clue whether he would actually be able to  _survive_ this entire mess.

“ _Well, you better come up with something.”_ John commented. _“If you think they're just going to let someone as powerful as you run around, you'll be sorely mistaken.”_

The courier frowned deeper.  _If nearly ten million people are behind you, they can't harm you._ He had the support of the people- not all of them, but the most important ones, like the doctors at the clinics and the cops. Besides, he  _was_ powerful. Normal people wouldn't stand a chance against him. 

John continued.  _“I'm sure you haven't given any thought about your future, I know. I used to be the same your age. But you have to ask yourself whether you are really prepared. Don't think they wouldn't try to recreate the Ray Sphere.”_ The agent cleared his throat.  _“After all, I did send them copies of every schematic I could get my hands at.”_

“Nice”, Cole deadpanned. “Guess then it's your damn job to make sure they _don't_.”

“ _Yeah, now I know better. But even without it, they still have you”_ , he warned him and Cole's stomach dropped. _“Someone as powerful as you are- don't think they wouldn't try to get their grabby fingers on you. Their own personal WMD. My guess is that they capture you and lock you up, only letting you out when they need somebody wiped off the map.”_

“Like you guys planned to do with Mercer?” Cole asked back. “Sorry- but in this case, I seriously recommend keeping your distance from me. I'm a nice guy, but if somebody threatens me, I will _murder_ them.”

“ _Is this what you are really planning?”_ , John questioned. _“Fight everybody tooth and nail? Or do you want to do it like Mercer did, and run away, hide away and flee across the country? You won't be able to do that forever, Cole.”_

“Yeah, but like I said- I don't have room in my brain to be worried about _that_ now too.” Cole grunted and fired another lightning bolt at a First Son Alex had in his claws, torching the poor sod to a charred corpse and gaining a dirty look from his ally. “In case you haven't noticed, John, but there are a whole lot of people out there that need to die. The Ray Sphere is still hidden, and I have to murder Kessler very slowly and very painfully to make him pay for what he did to Trish!” His brain came to a screeching stand-still. Trish was dead. _Trish was dead_. And Kessler killed her.

His teeth ground together. “How close are we to the next jammer?” He snarled. He had to rend someone limb from limb to calm his raging nerves.

“ _Hold on, we are heading there as we speak”_ , John told him.

“First Sons”, Alex's calm voice cut in, as if he sensed his anger mount. Cole whirled around, witnessing a group of men hurry along the street to get into position and shoot at them. His eyes narrowed and the sky darkened. He raised his hands, then yanked both down and giant pillars of lightning rained from the black clouds. _Red_ lightning.

It tore open the streets below, shredded through cars and torched the First Sons. The heat had been enough to melt the asphalt, leaving trails of destruction wherever they have hit. Whatever was left of the First Sons hesitated long enough for John to fly the helicopter out of range and across the river separating the islands of Empire. They went back for the Historic, almost the same place they started from. Cole didn't care, his vision was bleeding red. He could already sense the First Sons below, and it took every ounce of his willpower to  _not_ jump down and disembowel them with his energy blades. He couldn't blow it by being too hasty, if he did, then there would be no-one to blame other than him for Kessler to get away.

The chopper finally came to a stop above the parking garage Cole had crossed back when everything went to Hell.  _“The jammer's somewhere down there”_ , John commented,  _“But I can't pinpoint its location. You're going to have to head down there and find it.”_

The courier leapt off from his perch and descended like a lightning bolt. He fried the first few Sons that came at him, then swung around at the sound of something dying. He saw Alex get up from a crouch, with his eyes glowing eerily orange, while a massive pool of blood started to grow around his feet. Another invisible First Son conduit slowly fizzled back into visibility as he choked his last.

“I got these bastards”, the terrorist claimed. “You find the jammer!”

Cole dashed down the ramp into the lower levels, shooting lightning at whoever dared to stand in his way- be it either First Sons or those weird floating drones that kept shooting grenades at him. The endless concrete hallways and parking lots offered only little cover- for him as well as the men he was hunting. But he couldn't see the jammer anywhere. He noticed some sort of disturbance, but he couldn't pinpoint it  _exactly_ . He ran to the edge of the collapse he crossed back after the Blast, and swung himself down, taking another group of First Sons by surprise.

Still no sight of the jammer.

It took him several moments of hurry to get to the lowest level, and he still couldn't find the damn thing. He scowled angrily and grabbed the nearest First Son he could find, before killing the others. Above him, he could hear the screams of the others as Mercer tore his way through them. Cole picked up his voice. “Alex!”

There was silence for a second, before the terrorist collapsed a part of the ceiling and dropped right down in front of him. Like  _Beetlejuice_ . 

“Yeah?” He casually asked, ignoring the fact he just broke through four feet of solid concrete with ridiculous _ease_. Cole wordlessly held out the First Son.

“I can't find the jammer. Figure out where it is.”

Alex's expression lit up and it was the scariest thing Cole had ever seen. He saw those tentacles curl around the Son, then constrict with a sound he recognized as bones breaking. The man groaned once, and Cole stepped back, then turned away. The sounds the man made, his shrill screams and garbled pleas only made him feel less and less sympathetic. These fucks had killed Trish under Kessler's orders. He had no pity for them.

“Interesting”, Mercer's low voice echoed eerily in the parking lot.

“Where is the jammer?” The courier asked, glaring darkly at nothing in particular. He felt the anger fade again. It wasn't throbbing through his body anymore. Instead, he felt worn out. Exhausted, as if the rage burnt his core right out. Plus, the hits his skull had received weren't helping too much either. Vertigo and dizziness were starting to root inside his head again.

“It is somewhere around here”, Alex replied, brushing off his pant legs. “As in, he didn't know.” He cocked his head. “This one has some sort of cloaking generator. It is _invisible_ to the naked eye.”

Ah, shit. Cole furrowed his brows. He couldn't sense it because of the interference of the other metal around. They would waste too much time trying to look for it, and he felt tired. He just wanted to sleep.

“Get back to John”, Mercer told him after a short pause. “He is going to have to check the data first to tell us where the damn Sphere is, so we are pretty much finished here anyways.”

“We have to find the jammer first”, Cole argued.

“We only have to destroy it”, Mercer replied. “It is still in here.” His eyes flashed. “This means, we don't need to _find_ it. Not when this entire building here goes to shit.”

“Wait- you are going to take down _an entire_ building?” Cole asked incredulously. “Shit, can you _do_ that?”

“Easier than cracking a Hive”, Alex replied grinning. “Now get out of here. I'll meet you later.”

The courier hesitated for a moment, then he noticed the terrorist starting to crouch low with tentacles running over his back. He just knew that things were going to get messy pretty soon, so he didn't dare waste another moment. He dashed back up the ramps as far as somehow possible, then veered left and lunged across a gap. “John!” He barked into his phone as soon he sprinted across the upper most deck. “Get away! Now!”

“ _Cole? Did you get the jammer?”_

“Alex is going to get it. That's why we need to move.” Faintly, he heard something crack, and there was a tremor going through the entire building. “ _Now!_ ” He pounced back on top of the grate, and John pulled the chopper away.

Just in time.

The entire building shook once, and that was all the warning they'd get. Massive black spikes, each of them several stories tall, tore through the concrete from every possible angle. Solid cement was shredded to dust in an instant, steel snapped like twigs and whoever remained inside was summarily impaled and turned to bloody mist.

The parking garage didn't have a lick of a chance. The structure groaned like a wounded animal, then collapsed into a heap of rubble and dust. Cole inhaled sharply, eyes wide at the sheer amount of destruction wrought with a  _single attack_ . He could faintly hear John swear as the helicopter flew a little further away. The spot lights couldn't even penetrate the dust, but Cole could still see the nightmarish giant spikes tower over the rubble they've torn. Then, they suddenly pulled back, almost gently, back into the devastation beneath.

The dust hadn't even settled yet when a dark figure leapt from the ruins. For a split second, Cole locked eyes with Alex, who smirked into his direction before he changed trajectory to land on the street several yards away from them.

“ _Well”_ , John began awkwardly. _“Guess that's one way to take care of the jammer then.”_ He angled the chopper and lowered it to the ground. _“I'm going to check the sensors, make sure to find the Sphere before Kessler hides it again.”_

“And what am I going to do?”

“ _You go sleep. And heal. You'll need your strength tomorrow. When we make our move, Kessler's going to hit us with everything he got.”_

“I'll be ready”, Cole growled defiantly, but still hopped off the grate. The helicopter turned and flew off, vanishing somewhere over the Historic District.

The courier groaned and slumped his shoulders. All anger was gone, hidden back at the edge of his mind as simmering embers. Cole wanted to find Kessler now, but he was just too tired.

He sensed Mercer step up besides him. “Where to now?” He asked. “Home?”

“I don't have a home anymore”, the courier growled exhausted. Not his apartment. Not _Zeke's_ apartment. He didn't want to be reminded of that bastard anymore. He didn't know what would happen if he saw him again. If Zeke hadn't run off with the Ray Sphere, then Kessler would have never killed Trish. In a way, Zeke was to blame for her death.

If they ever met again, things were going to get _ugly_ .

Cole exhaled coldly, then turned to head down the road. “Let's go back to Trish.”

* * *

 

Dailey was dead. Alex wouldn't have considered a graveyard to be 'home', but it appeared MacGrath thought different. Instead of returning to the Neon, he had went back to the Memorial Park. A part of him saw the human logic behind this- his own apartment, the one he shared with Dunbar, didn't appear to be attractive to him anymore. Too many bad memories, too many emotions.

He didn't wanted to stay anywhere near that place, didn't want to have anything to do with the man that betrayed him. Human reason, but to him it made no sense. Instead of going into a place that could be easily defended, MacGrath decided to go into the open. Ignoring the fact that there was no protection from the weather, no water, no electricity.

But then again, he didn't have anything to lose, did he? Alex felt worried that the courier might be breaking off everything, to face his tormentor without any baggage attached.

Like he was preparing for a suicide run.

He would need to keep a close eye on this one.

Alex faltered slightly in his steps as they drew closer to the Memorial Park. The stench of blood and decay was ever-present, clogging up his nose, so he didn't notice it before.

But now he sensed it. Dana- here?

A new wave of worry washed over him. Dana was  _here_ , right in the middle of First Sons territory. She could have been injured or worse, because she wasn't in the relative safety of the Bayview anymore.

He whipped his head around, sniffing the air. No First Sons around. If there had been, he would have massacred them without mercy. These fucks were responsible for thousands of deaths, and he wouldn't even give them the chance to harm Dana in any way.

But when he heard her sobbing, his body froze up again. Did somebody hurt her? He didn't smell any blood (luckily for everybody involved), but what was going on?

The answer was easy, he realized once they found her. Trish Dailey had been her friend. Now she was dead. Dana was simply  _mourning_ .

Cole's eyes widened at the sight of her small shape crouched in front of the grave. “Dana?”

Dana turned her head slowly, glancing at the two men. Her expression was downcast, and her eyes red. She had cried, a lot actually. “I'm so sorry”, she whispered. “I'm so, so sorry.”

Alex frowned and approached her, seeing the bandage on her wrist and at her forehead. Kessler had thrown her into a wall, he remembered in a sudden surge of rage, but other than that- he didn't harm her any further.

Cole had approached her too, in time for Dana to pull herself to her feet. She moved suddenly, grabbing the courier and wrapping her arms tightly around his mid section. “I'm so sorry, Cole”, she sobbed, “I couldn't stop Kessler. He took Trish and I couldn't protect her. I promised I would take care of her, and now she's dead.” She choked, making a noise that made Alex cringe on the inside in something he assumed was sympathy. “I fucked up big time, and now Trish is dead. You have every right to be angry at me.”

The courier paused, and there were several emotions running over his face before he slowly returned the hug. “I am angry”, he admitted. “At Kessler. At you. At Zeke. At Alex. At myself.”

Alex heard his heartbeat pick up in speed, but also Dana's jumped up instantly. He knew Cole would never attack anyone who didn't deserve it, but when he got angry, he just wasn't himself anymore.

“Ever since Trish”, the man swallowed hard, “Ever since she died- ever since I was forced to abandon her- I've been so angry. It's been boiling through my blood, roaring in my ears. I have murdered _hundreds_ during this day, Dana. All _without_ feeling _anything_.” He exhaled in a shuddering tone and hugged Dana tighter. “I don't want to be angry. I don't want to kill. But every time I think of Kessler- the rage is back.”

Alex furrowed his brows and inclined his head as he noticed how broken his voice sounded. MacGrath was telling the truth, and in this process, revealed how  _shattered_ his psyche really was.

“I'm so tired of this all. This whole anger, and the rage. I am going to kill Kessler to stop him, but what will be left for me? Trish is dead, and won't ever come back.”

Dana glanced at Alex for a moment, before she turned her attention back to the courier. “You are still there, Cole. Still alive. Still kicking. And you still have Alex and me. We're with you till the end. Once you've beaten Kessler, we can work on what's going to happen after that.”

 


	28. End of the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Mercer Family, Cole.

** End of the Road **

 

They had spent the night at the Memorial Park. Dana had kept Cole in a hug the entire time, even as she nodded off into a restless slumber. Alex had gotten more silent as well, had even crouched down and became rather unresponsive and silent. Cole had barely slept himself, just kept holding the young woman while his mind drifted off. Despite the closeness, he didn't feel anything for her. Not like with Trish.

But Trish was dead, and all Cole had left was rage and grief inside. This was why he didn't push Dana away- she and Alex were the only ones left for him. He just wanted to keep both of them as close of possible out of fear of losing everything. Cole didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid to be alone. He wasn't that much of an hard ass as he tried to make others believe, and there was nothing he usually avoided more than direct confrontation.

But he also knew that here and now, there was no other choice. He had fought so many foes already, and as much as it startled him, he was brutally aware that killing whoever opposed him had already become his second nature. He had been  _murdering_ scores upon scores of enemies, all without hesitation, without  _feeling_ anything. And as cruel as it sounded, it was the only way to prevent them from ever hurting someone again.

He had no regrets about killing  _them_ . No, not about that. Trish's death, his failure to catch her, this was what he couldn't stomach. But he had to decide- and the thought of dooming six others, six doctors who would have been able to save so many others, out of his own selfishness, this would have sat forever on his consciousness and would have torn at him until there was nothing left. That was why he couldn't bring himself to hate himself for choosing their lives over Trish's.

Didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

So Cole just sat there, listening to Dana's breathing and staring at the picture of Trish pinned to the marker. He didn't like having to wait, but his body required rest. And no matter his own opinions in that matter, he knew he couldn't hurry things up. He had nodded half off, still aware of his surroundings, but at an almost meditative state of consciousness. Nobody dared to disturb them here. Fear kept them away from this place.

When dawn came, Alex had woken from his resting state and suggested going back to the Bayview. He mentioned that something did not sit right with him, and they needed Dana in a safe place. Also, John hadn't called again, so he was still busy preparing for locating that damned Ray Sphere. Cole agreed, knowing fully well he needed to do something until that moment came, something to distract his mind from spiraling back into uncontrollable bouts of rage and aggression.

Plus Trish would always smile when he tried to help her with the injured people. And with the First Sons taking over, there were many shooting victims. Fixing them back up was the least he could do for her, for her memories, even though he didn't wanted to do nothing more than  _murder_ Kessler, Cole was aware that he had no idea where he was. And unless he wanted to tear the entire city apart, he was forced to wait until either John or Alex had found him- and Cole actually put more faith into the NSA agent, because he had been in the organization long enough to know how they worked.

Though...Cole furrowed his brows as he glanced at Mercer, who was staring into the direction of the Stampton Bridge, eyes narrow and fists clenched at his sides. He seemed  _distracted_ by something. Something that made him agitated, if the constant tendrils rolling over his back meant anything. Apparently, his sister caught up on it too.

“Alex? What is it?” Dana asked worried.

“I don't know”, the terrorist growled. His fists uncurled and tentacles ran along his arms, like bristling fur on a cat. “It's this...vague feeling”, he added with a scowl. “Something that reminds me of Manhattan.” His eyes flashed. “I don't like it.”

“Oh fuck”, Dana moaned. She turned to Cole. “Do you know what this means? This means shit is about to hit the fan, and big time.”

“I am aware”, the courier hissed. “But not Kessler. Kessler only started it. And now it's going to turn ugly.”

A massive explosion erupted at the South End of the Neon, making Dana jerk back startled. Cole and Alex both whipped their heads around, expression equally dark as they stared at several jets roaring across the city out of nowhere.

“Moya lost control”, Mercer growled. “Now she has no other choice. Now she _has_ to do this.”

_Invade the city_ , he meant to say. But he didn't need to say it. All of them  _knew_ .

Cole's eyes narrowed to slits, and lightning started to spark between his fingers. Moya just declared  _war_ on them. A war for the Sphere.

He  _would not_ let them take it.

But no matter how much he  _wanted_ to, he could  _not_ stop an entire  _army._ No, he had something else to do. Moya wanted to take the city. He could not allow this. Empire was  _his_ .

“Alex”, he snarled, part of him surprised by how dark his voice sounded, “Stop these fucks. Stop them _dead_. I don't want them anywhere in _my_ city.” _His city. His Empire_.

The graphic grin that spread on Mercer's face was more than enough to send pretty much everybody cowering (if there had been people around). “With pleasure.”

His claws were formed in an instant, orange spots glowing eerily against the dark of his flesh. He pushed himself off the floor, making both of them stumble from the shockwave, before he vanished across the rooftops. Cole grunted and turned to Dana. “Dana”, he ground out, “We have to find Harms. And the others.” There was another explosion, drowning out every noise around them. “We have to get the people off the streets”, the courier added, “Away from Moya.”

“Where to?” Dana asked, “Because the way things look- Alex _can not be_ everywhere!”

“The old Air Raid Tunnels. The sewers.” Cole claimed. “The people will be safe down there. Let's hurry.” He told himself repeatedly he did not give a single shit about the people, that he had to go after Kessler, but he couldn't bear the idea of forcing the civilians to suffer Moya's army. 

As long John didn't contact him, he wouldn't have anything to occupy his rage with. Might as well to the  _right_ thing. The thing Trish would want him to do.

* * *

 

The explosions became more frequent the closer Alex came. And the closer he came, the more he became aware of the shouting of the civilians, which, in turn, made his insides boil.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this. He  _knew_ that, once he went this step, there would be  _no_ turning back. The people of Empire were  _one_ thing. Harms and the other cops had seen him, they knew who he was- but once he showed himself to Moya's men, then everything would be revealed. 

Just...he gave not a single fuck about this. Not anymore. Let them see him, let them know ZEUS was there. He was through playing nice. If Blackwatch decided to come here, then he would face them, and stop them. Alex had been a coward to hide from them for three years, but now he would keep his ground and face them.

His pulse sped up as he picked up the sounds of people screaming, military boots stomping the ground, UAVs and F-22s patrolling the sky, the scent of gun oil. It had been  _so long_ since he maimed  _soldiers_ . Too long for his taste. Maybe there was something wrong with him, but he missed the days in Manhattan. Sometimes.

But the soldiers down there weren't Blackwatch. Did they deserve having ZEUS after them?

_Yes_ .

Alex's eyes narrowed as he came closer, watching them from a low roof. The men maybe didn't know  _why_ there were sent in to gun down civilians, but they were still doing it without questioning their orders. And that made them viable targets, victims he could take out without feeling  _guilty_ afterwards.

His sharp eyes found the building they've blown up when they arrived, and he frowned unhappily. These guys had blown up the telephone main HUB, killing telephones and internet- cutting the city off from the chance to call help. Not the military's radios, though, they worked on a different frequency. Alex would need one of those, to listen in to their chatter. Like he did back in Manhattan.

He snorted and got up, stepping into plain view. The men below stopped immediately and their guns snapped up. He could  _feel_ their panic mount- after all, he was back in his 'default' appearance,  _and_ had his claws out.

Alex allowed himself to smirk arrogantly into their direction, then easily stepped off the roof. He waited for the dust to settle, and made eye contact with the platoon's leader. He fanned his claws slightly as a silent warning. The men froze and stared at him, eyes blown wide beneath their helmets. This was their only chance to back out- if they did, then Alex would not pursue them.

They didn't. Their captain yelled something unimportant and all of the guys to the front started shooting. High-speed bullets bit into Alex's hardened Biomass, barely even breaking his surface. Alex scoffed. They made their choice.

Now they had to deal with the consequences. He lunged to the front, faster than the men could blink. When he reached them, they were  _dead_ .

His talons easily sliced through clothes, skin, muscles, organs and bones, all without even slowing down. Only the occasional  _clung_ when he hit a gun barrel was the signal that he lost some momentum. Never mind, it wasn't enough to slow him down at all. A part of him wished that these men would lose their nerve and  _flee_ , run away. He would let them, because it wasn't in his nature to strike down opponents that weren't  _willing_ to die.

The much larger part of him, the part that was  _Blacklight_ , the weapon he was meant to be, just wanted to keep on fighting for ever and ever. Alex allowed himself this primal urge of his, but kept his mind clear to prevent himself from assaulting civilians. This was how he was most comfortable- kill whoever tried to kill him, and avoid everybody who didn't.

This platoon wasn't too large, merely the first shock troop. He knew there were going to be more of them, so he had to make sure his first action was to create a bloody mess that hopefully made the others think  _twice_ about trying to engage him. His little way of preventing killing  _too many_ of them, no matter what he  _really_ wanted.

With a low growl, Alex turned away from the massacre. Several civilians, who had previously been assaulted by these guys, started at him with wide eyes. Alex inclined his head and let his claws hang loosely at his sides. “Take whatever you can carry and get away”, he told them in a tone that left no room for arguments. “Away from the Neon- there are going to be more of these guys coming over here, and you need to hide until everything is over.”

“But- where to?” Somebody asked.

Alex shrugged, partly surprised these humans did not run away screaming, even though they had seen what he just did. “The Warren. Get to the Bayview. There are people there who will help you.”

His body bristled and he whipped around, staring at three attack choppers flying towards them at full tilt. He turned to the humans for a second. “Go!”

He jumped to the side to avoid a Hellfire Missile into his direction, leaping into the open and into full view. DARPA's own Apaches started to circle into an attack pattern, intending to take him out. The Runner grinned. It had been  _too long_ since he flew one of those.

He dashed across the street and quickly sprinted up a wall, going entirely too fast for the gunners to target him. He catapulted himself off the edge of the building, screwing his body skywards and twisting to face the first of the Apaches. His right claw changed, the nails shortening and the Biomass turning into braided coils. Alex shot the Whipfist out and dug his talons into the side of the first helicopter. He let himself pulled along, then reeled in his arm to latch on the side of the chopper, easily ignoring the fact that the pilot started to spin and rise higher in an effort to throw him off.

Alex's teeth were bared in a nightmarish grin as he effortlessly yanked out the door and seized the gunner. Without giving it a second thought, he literally threw the man over his shoulder and to his doom while he pushed inside the cockpit. He easily jumped on top of the now empty seat and faced the pilot, then slammed him against the window, severing spine and shattering his skull to kill him, all while he effortlessly climbed over the backrest to take over the pilot's seat.

Even as he was still seating himself, he already took control of the Apache and swung it back into the right direction. The entire thing was over within a few moments, and much too fast for the other two choppers to realize what had been going on. Alex effortlessly picked those two out of the air with a single Hellfire missile each, and threw a glance up to where the F-22s were patrolling. They didn't worry him too much for now, as their purpose was simply to make room for the ground troops to invade. Well, tough luck, because he was here now. The Runner snorted and pushed the Apache's nose down to circle around the island, to keep an eye for the men Moya send in. He was pretty certain that they would either come from the Stampton Bridge, or the Steel Harbor. He would stop them there, make them see just how he could mess them up.

Plus, he got to fly around in an Apache. Had been entirely too long since he last did this.

* * *

 

The underbelly of the city was dusty, smelly and dark. People whimpered, some squealed every time there was a loud  _crack_ from the surface. Dana only huffed out, because her patience was starting to wear thin. She could understand their panic, really- finally when things were starting to look up, the Feds threw the towel and decided to glass everything.

_Just like Manhattan_ , Dana thought irritated. Seriously, those fucks never manage to get anything  _right_ .

Maybe it was her frustration and the fact she already experienced shit like that before that she was still able to keep her head in the game, but it definitely looked like she and Cole were about the only ones not freaking out. Well...she glanced at the courier thoughtfully. It  _did_ look like he was freaking out, just in a different way. This was more like when Alex flipped the switch actually, and she could see his tense jaw and strained posture only all too well. She knew he was holding back- not for her, but for his own sake, actually. She was aware he wanted to do nothing more than go out there and tear Kessler to shreds- she wanted to do so too, because he  _murdered_ her best friend, though she was aware that she wouldn't even get close to that guy. This was Cole's job, and probably Alex's.

_Her_ job was to make damn sure that the civilians were safe. No matter how irritating these idiots or this entire shit situation were.

When the first explosions rocked the city- those in the Neon, Harms and his men had already realized what was going on. When Dana and Cole rushed towards them and barked orders to get all people down into the air raid tunnels, the cops jumped to action immediately.

The first two hours it'd been pretty chaotic- with men and women running everywhere and hurrying to get whatever they could carry. Cole and Harms quickly found a big space just below the streets, and as soon there were directions, the other doctors and nurses finally understood what they were supposed to do. After that, they started moving some beds down there, followed by some necessary tech, then the patients that weren't supposed to leave their beds. As more time passed, more and more people came to the Bayview, all telling horror stories of the soldiers trying to kill them- only to be killed in turn. By a man with claws.

F-22 Raptors circled the sky like especially large buzzards, the roar of their engines creating a threatening echo across the city. But they seemed content with blowing the ever-loving fuck out of the shore line to create a path for the troops to head inside, where they most likely ran into Alex. They didn't come any closer- at the moment.

At one point, Dana's heart nearly stopped when a bunch of drones and three more attack helicopters raced towards the hospital, but then a fourth chopper appeared out of nowhere and made short process with the drones and two of the attacking vehicles. The third picked it out of the air, but not fast enough so an uncanny human shape leapt out of the cockpit and latched onto the helicopter, crossing the distance of nearly half a block in a single bound, before the door was yanked out, the pilots inside killed and the helicopter changed its user in one glorious aerial grand theft auto (or chopper, in this case).

Even if Alex had seemingly a hard time trying to pick the fight jets out of the air that ravaged the sky and dropped bombs on the city, he was trying his best to buy the people time. And that meant that he was there for them, and that thought calmed her raging nerves so she could function effectively and figure out what the fuck was there to do.

Ever since Manhattan, she had been the one to work up their plans. Alex wasn't  _stupid_ by all means- he was probably the most intelligent person to ever walk the planet- but his strength wasn't  _thinking_ . Alex had always been the more direct type, preferring to just go with his instincts and natural abilities. From time to time, he did actually have a brilliant idea of what to do next, though he usually left this to her. He was the big brother whose job it was to remove any and all obstacles, she the little sister whose job it was to make sure he got the right obstacles. In a way, they were inseparable, depending on each other.

But right now, he didn't need her help. No, if she tried to go to him and do  _something_ , she would be in the way, and she knew. Instead, she helped him in a different way- by getting the people off the street and out of sight, to allow him free range with his powers.

She made another trip back to the surface, sighing and rolling her shoulders. She noticed Cole nearby, helping several injured civilians with his electric abilities. Ever since that light show on the roof of the Bayview, his powers escalated- and right now, he was seemingly able to heal several people at once. Which increased his speed when dealing with those lesser injuries, and helped conserving the few supplies left.

Speaking of which- Dana furrowed her brows thoughtfully. They would need more food. Not so much water, but it would be better if they could stockpile some of that too. But medical drugs and food were more important- there were no supply drops anymore, and the little they had was starting to decline rapidly. She would need to talk to Alex about it, maybe he could raid DARPA's stores if he had the time.

“Listen, son, I have no idea how you got this frequency-”

Dana blinked, turning to the sound of Harms' voice. She found the warden stalking up and down, gesturing wildly with his police radio against his ear. “But I have no idea who  _you_ are, or  _how_ to get into contact with Mercer, okay? Haven't seen him since two days before yesterday.”

Dana immediately made a bee-line for the warden. “Harms!” She got his attention. “Who's this? Who wants to talk to Alex?”

Harms frowned at her. “Some guy, sounds like military- yes, I  _am_ talking to somebody else.” The man exhaled. He turned to Dana. “Says his name's Cross.”

“Cross?!” Dana blinked once, then set her face into a determined expression. “I'll talk to him.” 

Harms frowned for a moment. “You sure? He sounds like he's pretty ticked off.”

“I am”, she confirmed. The warden nodded and handed the radio over. Dana took it. “Cross?”

“ _Fucking Hell, Dana!”_ , Cross bit out. _“The fuck is going on over there? I can't reach Mercer!”_

“His phone's dead”, the younger sibling told him. “And those bastards have cut the communication.”

“ _Yeah, thought as much”_ , the Specialist groused. _“Fucking Hell, my boss is running circles, screaming at everybody.”_

“Oh shit, why?!” Dana did not like this, because if _Blackwatch_ was panicking, then things were really deep in the shit.

“ _DARPA's been keeping back information”_ , Cross told her, _“But our intelligence says that you guys had a plague over there. Now they suddenly act like it's their damn job to keep it under control?! More even, even my boss got the rumors that Mercer's over there. He's been trying to get a hold of somebody responsible ever since yesterday.”_

“Fuck. You guys want to march in here?!”

“ _Not 'want'- but yeah. Blackwatch's trying to strongarm their way inside. However, DARPA's throwing all kinds of spokes in our wheels, and are already doing our thing. Rooks's gonna blow a gasket at that rate.”_

Dana groaned. “Fuck. Now I gotta  _thank_ that Moya bitch for trying to keep everything under cover.” She exhaled. “God, Cross, could you do something?”

“ _What sort of? The way it looks, DARPA's already trying to seize control of Empire. And with Mercer there it will only be a matter of time until someone sees him who's not supposed to.”_

“I know!”, Dana snapped, running her hand through her hair. “But could you at least try?”

“ _Try what, Dana?”_

“You need to get close to those guys of yours that process the information. Make sure no report says anything about Alex. We have some super-powered guys here, they are called 'conduits'. DARPA knows about them.”

“ _You want me to fake the reports, so they only suggest conduit activity?”_

“Exactly!”

The Specialist sighed.  _“I can try. But I have to be careful about this so I don't get summarily executed, damnit.”_

“I know. If it gets too dangerous, then save your ass”, Dana instructed. “But we only need a few days. Can you do that?”

“ _I can try”_ , Cross replied with a little moan. _“But you have to try to get Mercer in line.”_

“I can't reach him, and at the moment we're a bit busy preventing DARPA from killing the citizens.” Dana sighed. “Just a few days, Cross. Okay?”

“ _I'll fucking try”_ , the Specialist replied with a biting tone. _“Now both of you owe me.”_

“Hey, look at it that way- you are the only guy from Blackwatch who gets to tell ZEUS what he has to do.”

“ _Fat good's it's been doing me.”_ Cross groaned. _“Keep that radio close to your person, in case there are new developments.”_

“I will.”

“ _Good. Cross out.”_ The Specialist cut the connection. Dana exhaled with a long moan. It was just one problem after the other, wasn't it? Shit, things looked really bad. However, Cross was going to have their backs. He always did. 

But they couldn't just leave it to him. If Blackwatch came in- and they would, given time- then they needed to be prepared. They needed to be ready, to keep them out of Empire. And away from Alex.

Dana furrowed her brows. There would be a way to do  _exactly_ that. And she had everything she needed here. In the people of Empire.

“Dana!” She turned at the sound of Cole's voice, watching the courier jog towards her with a grim expression. “John called”, he told her without her asking. “He found the Ray Sphere.”

* * *

 

Voices. So many voices. So many faces. So many people. Cole scowled on the inside. Here he was, helping people with their injuries or taking them away from the surface to hide them. But those were only the symptoms. He couldn't win this by trying to soothe the symptoms, damnit. They had to get to the root of the problems and tear it out.

But that root was hidden.  _Kessler_ . 

Alone the thought of the man that killed Trish angered Cole so much, lightning snapped out of his skin and slowly changed its color to crimson.

_Don't lose your cool. Don't lose your cool. Don't lose your cool._

He exhaled and forced himself back under control. He couldn't face Kessler when he couldn't think  _clearly_ \- it was too dangerous if he lost his head. No, he had to focus all his burning hot hatred into a cold rage, into a concentrated fury that would stop his human mind and made him into a weapon. The weapon Moya wanted to have. Only he would use his powers for himself. He wasn't anybody's puppet.

He was going to find Kessler and murder him, then he would end the quarantine and Moya's hold over Empire. He would avenge anybody who died- not only Trish, but also those that got shot down at Stampton Bridge.

That was why he was still here at the Bayview. He had no desire to fight the endless hordes of foes Moya was throwing at the city. Let Alex do this, he was a much more lethal weapon after all, one that couldn't tire and healed itself with the bodies of his foes. His job was more important- find the Ray Sphere. Find  _Kessler_ . And kill him.

He grunted and walked out of the Air Raid tunnels. They were too crowded for his taste- after all, they weren't designed for ten million people in mind, and even though there were still hundred thousands on the surface, they had already reached their capacity with just the injured and the children of Empire. Still, it was much more silent out there than it was below the streets.

Up here, he could  _think_ , at least.

He saw Dana stalk the streets, arguing agitated with someone over radio. It didn't sound too good, but it seemed she had everything under control, so he wasn't too concerned. His own phone chimed, taking his attention.

“ _Cole?”_

“John?” The courier furrowed his brows. “Anything?”

“ _Yeah. Had a hard time refiguring my radio to a frequency that wasn't blocked. Heh.”_ The man cleared his throat. _“Anyways, good news, I know where Kessler is holed up. Or at least, where he hid the Ray Sphere.”_

Cole did a double-take, his eyes narrow as he repeated the words in his head to make sure he heard what he thought he did. John found the Ray Sphere?

_Yes_ . John found the Ray Sphere!

“Where?” His pulse jumped up, eyes widening.

“ _The old Examiner building”_ , John told him. _“Going to be a bitch getting to it, though.”_

“So, what's the plan?”

“ _I got a canister of Fentanyl rigged to the bottom of the chopper”_ , he explained. _“Should incapacitate everybody inside.”_

Fentanyl? It was a pain med, wasn't it? Cole puzzled for a moment, before he realized what John was planning. Fentanyl in high doses was lethal, killing through apnea. John didn't want to knock these fucks out- he wanted to  _kill_ them. And Cole realized that he was actually  _fine_ with it. He was going to help him do that- saved a lot of time, after all.

John sighed, and Cole just  _knew_ that there was more trouble brewing.  _“Unfortunately, Kessler got anti-air guns on the surrounding buildings and they'll tear me apart long before I get into position.”_

Cole furrowed his brows. “So, let me get this straight: I take out the guns, you gas these bastards, and we go in and get the Sphere?”

“ _Exactly. But we only get one shot at this. Get over there and destroy these guns. I doubt we'll have to worry about those other bastards trying to pick us out of the air- your friend seems to have everything under control.”_ He scoffed once. _“I'm listening to their radio chatter, and it's...disturbing.”_

“I'm on my way.” Cole swung around and headed to Dana first. “Dana!” He shouted, getting her attention. “John called. He found the Ray Sphere.” He didn't even wait for her reply, but rather already ran off. He had to take out those guns. For the first time since Alden's Tower he was so close to the Ray Sphere, he could almost _taste_ it. This time, he would make sure that damn thing got destroyed.

He found the first gun easily enough. The old Examiner Building  _was_ in the Warren, after all. Right smack inside a war zone. Made him wonder what the Hell Kessler's agenda was- after all, he was literally presenting the thing on a silver platter. But there was no time for this now- Cole mounted the first tall building besides it, where he saw the massive barrel of the first cannon. Half a dozen First Sons waited for him on the roof. Cole knew no mercy. He threw several shockwaves into the men and catapulted them off the building to their doom, before he turned to glare at the anti-air gun. He lifted one hand, lightning arching out of it while the sky darkened. His fist clenched and he yanked it down, and a single lightning bolt slammed into the cannon and utterly eradicated it.

He easily leapt off the building and headed over to where the second weapon was. He was mindful to keep below the roof edge to avoid being shot at, while keeping his attention to his senses to avoid a surprise like those invisible conduits. Those guys sucked big time.

Luckily, there weren't any, so he could continue his way without any larger problems. His rage was back, but this time he managed to direct it, use it to increase his strength and heighten his awareness. He blew up the second anti-air cannon, then rushed across the roof and leapt off without slowing down. He heard the roar of the jets above him, swearing inwardly at their blatant disregard for human life. He could deal with killing those assholes, but murdering innocent civilians? These bastards didn't deserve any mercy, so he took a moment to angle his body once he reached a roof just across from the next cannon, and summoned a powerful lightning storm. Within moments, he destroyed every single jet he could see, dozens of First Sons, and the cannon. All with only one blow.

The sky was rumbling above him, and the air smelled of ozone. He enjoyed it, especially as he watched the few remaining jets turn and fly off, out of the storm he summoned.

“ _Good job”_ , John praised. _“That was the last of them. Now get away from the building- I don't want you breathing in any of this crap.”_

“Understood”, Cole lunged off the roof and headed away from the Examiner building and against the wind. He just hoped that there would be no civilians caught in the crossfire, but then again, the Warren was pretty empty already.

He pulled himself on top of a four-story apartment building, and turned to watch. The police helicopter from the day before just pulled upwards, and disengaged a man-sized canister. The thing hit the derelict roof hard, and easily broke through. Within moments, the entire building was flooded with gas, and Cole allowed himself to grin when his radar senses picked up several alarmed heartbeats going silent. Now they just had to wait until the gas cleared before-

His eyes narrowed at the sight of a trailer truck pulling away. He could sense it. The Ray Sphere, inside of the thing.

“ _Damnit!”_ , John swore, _“We weren't fast enough.”_

“They loaded it on that truck, didn't they?” Cole growled.

“ _Yes. I'm going to keep it in my sight, you follow as quickly as you can.”_

Cole immediately ran towards the high-voltage wire suspended between this building and the next one, and ground along it as fast as he could. The speed carried into a powerful momentum as he hopped off on the other side, so he crossed the roof it was attached to without even touching it, and landed on the next wire on the other side.

He crossed the train tracks, found another wire and ground along this one to cross the 19 th Street Drawbridge, then jumped off and continued along the train tracks. His heart was slamming against his ribs, and his eyes narrowed from the sharp wind blowing into his face. The Ray Sphere was just within his grasp, and he was going to get it. Once it was gone, he would find Kessler.

And he would kill him.

The truck suddenly pulled to the side, and Cole swore as he jumped off the tracks, hitting the floor below in a roll. They were heading to the Long Pier. It had been, at a time, the location of an amusement park, but after recession hit, the people moved away and took their stuff with it. After it, the Long Pier was mostly for cruisers and cargo ships to dock.

“ _They've got a boat inbound”_ , John warned him. _“Probably trying to take advantage of the fact that water will kill you.”_

“I'll go”, Cole growled enraged. They were _so close_ \- they couldn't let them escape. Not now. “I'll stop them!”

“ _Yeah, but you're on your own”_ , John lamented. _“Listen- you've got to hurry. I'm leaking fuel all over the place, so I'll look for a place to land, then catch up with you.”_

“See you at the Sphere”, Cole replied, already rushing towards the cargo area. His senses blared in warning, and he stopped just in time to see a single Son in front of him. The man sneered at him from behind his mask, and swiftly turned invisible.

Cole's eyes narrowed, not going to give up. Instead, he kept his radar senses going the entire time, and once he had pinged the First Son's location, he lunged at him and smashed his fist into what he hoped was his face. There was a surprised gasp, and the crack of Cole's bones, and the guy swayed back, turning visible for a short second. A second that was more than enough for the courier to jump at him and leech the electricity out of his body, fixing his busted hand in the process. Before the Son hit the ground, Cole had already vaulted across a shipping container. He stayed off the ground and zapped the mines that had been placed on the ground. He avoided two First Sons shooting grenades at him by smacking the grenades back at them to blow them up.

Gas erupted from the point of impact, forcing Cole to hold his breath.  _Damn gas grenades!_

The low visibility did not keep the Sons from rushing him. The courier summoned several lightning strikes from the dark clouds overhead to simply fry  _everything_ in his vicinity, the Sons included.

He continued running across the Long Pier, seeing the blue glow of the Sphere even from a distance. He also saw the turrets that swung into his direction, and he heard the shriek of one of the drones. The UAV was the larger threat. Cole angled his arm and zapped the thing repeatedly, then, once it came down, smacked a shockwave into it and catapulted it into the direction of the turret. The drone and the turret exploded in a brilliant ball of fire, killing another First Son conduit. Another drone tried to assault him. Cole lunged at it with lightning blades attached to his wrists. Within moments, he had it dismantled.

He continued onwards, finding himself in a large 'courtyard', surrounded by containers all around him. His brows drew together as his guts coiled inside. It was quiet...too quiet.

Out of instinct, he created lightning all around his body. Just in time for several of the containers to burst open and reveal dozens of First Sons. Bullets flew all around him, and Cole ducked behind his shield, swearing. He really had no time for this shit.

“Get him!” Someone yelled, and the courier felt the Sons approach. He threw his body to the side, keeping his shield between himself and the guns, and managed to roll behind some cover. The sky was still black, and thunder rolled overhead. Cole yanked his fists down, summoning pillars of lightning to fry these bastards. Moments later, only the heavy smell of ozone and the stench of singed flesh was left. The courier panted and send out another pulse to make sure he got all of the guys. None were left, so he turned his attention to a fuse box to drain it.

He heard steps behind his body and turned his head to glance over his shoulder. It was John who approached him, holding his gun ready. “Good work”, the agent said, “Thought I'd be fast enough to help you, but it looks like you had everything under control.”

“Yeah”, Cole huffed, stepping back to drop his arms by his sides. “Now come. The Sphere's over there. We gotta figure out how to destroy it.”

“Good idea”, John agreed. The two men made their way over to the elevated platform, where a single machine containing the damned Sphere stood. They approached it carefully, bathing in the blue glow of the thing.

John huffed out. “You know, I had that thing in my hands once”, he told Cole. “Kessler asked me to hold it while he adjusted some cables during a test.” He sighed. “I could feel it pulsing, like something was inside of it, trying to get out.” He glanced at Cole. “It's not right.”

“And everyone wants it”, the courier ended darkly. They couldn't allow this. This thing wasn't supposed to exist any longer.

“That big lightning strike of yours should crack the protective container”, John assumed, “Then we can blow it sky-high.”

Cole's expression darkened some more. Destroy it. It was the only way. How many lives had it destroyed? Everybody wanted it, and it attracted all sorts of sick people.

But on the other hand, something in his head whispered, it gave him powers before. If he would use it again, it could increase his abilities, make him stronger. Worked with the Blast Shards, after all.

He instantly smothered that voice with a low growl. He didn't need it. He didn't need that damned Sphere. He was strong enough even without it, and he didn't want anybody to have it. Plus, destroying it would take everything Moya worked for. A wonderful, giant middle finger pointed into her direction.

“Stand clear”, the courier snarled, “I'm going to blast this piece of shit.” Trish's crumbled body flashed through his mind, and his lightning snapped out of his skin as his anger mounted. This thing was part of the reason she was dead. This thing killed Amy and thousand others, took Zeke, drove the Dustmen to murder innocent civilians...

He threw his arms to the front, hitting the Ray Sphere with every ounce of his power. Thunder drowned out every other noise, the roar of it echoing loudly across the Warren. Just a little longer, and that thing would be history.

Something went wrong.

Cole's eyes widened as the Sphere started to suck in the energy surging through it, its blue glow increasing instantly. It was no longer washing over them in soothing waves, but rather assaulted their eyes, blinding them.

The protective container shattered, seconds before cracks appeared all over the Sphere.

“Cole!” John barked. “Stop it! Something's wrong!”

Cole swore and jerked back, halting his attack, but the damage was done.

The Ray Sphere broke into thousand tiny pieces, but they simply kept suspended in mid-air. Blue energy was swirling where the sphere had been, first slowly circling its center, before it pulsed once- and started to suck everything inside, like somebody pulled a plug from thin air.

“COLE!” John barked, just as he whipped around and tried to make a run for it. Cole was faster, already several steps away when he heard a blood-curling scream. He whirled back, watching in horror how John's body was shattered, torn apart. Cole screamed his name in panic, knowing fully well that he couldn't help him. The Sphere had pulled him apart. Cole ran as fast as he could while behind him a giant dome of light rose, blinding him even though he had his back to it.

The Long Pier shook violently as the light ate its way through its foundation and churned up the water below. Cole just ran faster, praying to whatever god was up there for his foothold to keep in one piece.

He made it halfway down the pier when the dome stopped growing, and just sat there.

Then it collapsed, pulled everything into itself, seconds before the energy raced outwards in a massive blast. Cole swore and curled up his body, throwing his arms in front of his face to protect himself as the shockwave grabbed him and threw him across the Long Pier, along with some of the shipping containers. He hit the ground again as the roar of the explosion deafened him momentarily, and dust coated him.

He could hear his blood rush through his body, could hear a sharp ringing in his ears as his powers fixed his busted ear drums. He was panting in panic and shock, remaining curled up between some broken cargo containers until he no longer felt the tremors running through the ground.

Cole carefully lifted himself off the pier and slowly turned around, staring wide-eyed at the churning waters and the scorched edge where the part of the pier containing the Ray Sphere had been. Most of the Long Pier, the Ray Sphere, John- they were simply  _gone_ .

He saw the remains of the vortex blinking out of existence, vanishing without a trace, leaving behind rubble and broken metal.

Cole stared at it for another long moment, just stood there, blinking, as the waters slowly calmed down again. Then he abruptly sat down with a heart-broken moan. John was dead.  _John was dead_ . 

Fuck. Another ally down. Cole couldn't say he had known the man for long, but the time he did, he found him to be a decent human. And now he was gone, just like that.

Nothing had gone according to plan.  _At least the Ray Sphere's out of the picture_ , a voice inside his head whispered. Yeah, maybe.

But at what price?

John was dead, torn apart by the Ray Sphere. Cole hoped it was a swift end. But there was nothing he could have done for him. On the contrary, if he went back for him, the chance would have been he'd be dead now too. And as much it hurt, Cole knew that he was more important than John. Hell, he was an Agent, so death in the line of duty was probably  _expected_ from them. It was possible he had been prepared for this outcome.

He groaned again and pulled himself to his feet to turn around and walk off the remaining side of the pier. The Ray Sphere was gone, and nobody would ever be able to use it again. John's sacrifice was not in vain.

Cole grunted once as he slowly marched towards the street, ignoring the chaos the Sphere's explosion had caused. Nobody had been hurt, and that was good.

John would have been proud, he thought.

“ _I'm disappointed in you, Cole”_ His back went ramrod straight, and his eyes flew wide open. His head snapped down to his phone. Kessler. _Kessler called him._

“ _The Ray Sphere was the catalyst of your powers”_ , the old man sneered angrily, _“It could've strengthened you even more. But you rejected it.”_ Cole's expression melted into an angry snarl, each of Kessler's words driving another spike of fiery hot _rage_ through his body. _“I, for one, wouldn't have done the same thing.”_

Cole grit his teeth and mashed the reply button. “Yeah, but I am not you!” He snarled hatefully. “We are nothing alike, Kessler. I will kill you, and I will make sure you will not hurt anybody again.”  _Keep the city safe, prevent another tragedy like Trish from ever happening._

Kessler laughed slowly, chuckling darkly that sent all sorts of icy rivers running along Cole's spine.  _“That remains to be seen”_ , the old man commented darkly.  _“Meet me at the Staton Building.”_

He cut the connection. Cole stared at his phone for another moment before his lips peeled away from his teeth in a growl. Kessler was there. Waiting for him at the Staton Building. He finally stopped hiding. Had stepped out to face him.

Cole would not let this chance waste away. Kessler was  _his_ .  _He_ was going to murder him. Was going to kill him for what he'd done. Nobody was going to take this away from him.

 


	29. Murder your Maker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to face Kessler.

**Murder your Maker**

 

Patrick Kings never managed to leave the Marines behind. After Manhattan, after the monsters and zombies, he was unable to reconnect with his family. What he'd seen didn't let him sleep anymore, so he returned into active duty. At least the stress, the shooting and the screaming drowned out the noises in his head.

Patrick was aware he no longer was the guy he'd been before as he and a group of men continued to push into Empire City. Another American city grasped in the hand of terrorists, another American city they were supposed to invade- but he didn't question General Bridges. Manhattan had that kind of influence on him, and orders were orders, right?

Some of the guys on his platoon whooped when something blew up, or when they found one of these guys in the hoodies. Patrick only felt emptiness inside. Every bit of humanity had been ripped from him, torn away through the monsters and zombies.

Whatever was left of the old Patrick was locked inside his head, wondering, questioning whether they were doing the right thing. His captain had told them that the city was overrun with criminals, that it was a hot-spot for terrorists out of Iraq, that they converted more and more people to their cause. They said the guy who blew up the city center was a sleeper agent with connections to Al-Qaeda.

But Patrick couldn't see any signs of Al-Qaeda. Or terrorists. There was nobody hiding in the buildings, no mines, no traps, no men trying to shoot them. There were people, running and hiding away from them.

_Was it right? Was this the truth?_

Patrick didn't ask however. It wasn't his job to  _think_ .

“We got contact!” His captain shouted, and the entire platoon went ramrod straight. Patrick heard the wheeze of an engine above, and turned his head slightly. There was an Apache heading towards them, but it was smoking heavily. He saw some flames jumping out of the rotor ever so often, and he saw the bullet holes that riddled its side.

As his captain tried to make contact with the pilot, Patrick realized that it was on a collision course with them. And it wasn't one of theirs anymore.

“Hijacked vehicle!” He shouted in alarm, “Down!”

Nobody questioned his orders, they all just dove to the side and behind cover. Their gunner whipped his missile launcher at the chopper and shot it. The Apache exploded in a glorious ball of fire and crashed into the street, safely away from his troop.

“Good work, Kings”, his captain commented as the men got back to their feet. “That's one less son of a bitch we have to worry about.”

The remains of the Apache suddenly exploded outwards, but he could tell immediately it wasn't the gas tank. Patrick and his entire platoon froze when  _something_ moved in the inferno. Something... _human_ . The shape stood across from them, still hunched over. Patrick felt his pulse jump up and his finger hovered over the trigger as the figure turned into their direction.

A pair of red eyes flashed.

And Patrick recognized the thing  _in an instant_ . Gray hoodie, beaten leather jacket with white stripes, worn jeans...

_ZEUS_ .

The thing from Manhattan. The thing that killed the monsters and zombies and soldiers alike.

“Holy fuck”, their gunner whispered, eyes blown wide.

ZEUS stepped towards them, and its expression twisted into a nightmarish grin, just as its arms turned into its lethal talons.

The men opened fire, trying to shoot that thing down. Except Patrick  _knew_ that bullets barely harmed that thing.

ZEUS lunged at them, and Patrick's world was drowned out in screams, shots and blood.

* * *

 

Alex wasn't too sure how long he'd been at this. Only a day at most, but how long had this been? Kill Marines, steal a helicopter, fly around in it and shoot some guys, then lose the helicopter, be grounded again, be shot at, consume soldiers, steal the next chopper- It all blurred together, with only the next target being clear in his mind. He didn't even know how many helicopters he'd gone through until now.

But, as he tore through another group of Marines, he realized that  
he  
enjoyed  
every  
moment.

Until now, he hadn't realized how much he  _missed_ Manhattan. Sure, Empire was far from the chaos and hectic rush of the Outbreak, but this tiny piece of mindless slaughter was the most he'd gotten in years. Yet he didn't lose himself in all of this. He knew he was walking a razor edge, always teetering at madness- one tiny step, and he'd end up becoming what Greene had been. And that was something he would  _never_ allow.

So once everything was  _dead_ , he stopped himself and inhaled deeply to get his bloodlust back under control. The threat was gone, now to the more... _delicate_ job. Exhaling slowly, he turned and eyed a pen to the side, one that was full of civilians that had been driven together like cattle. Probably for 'questioning', which translated roughly to 'make disappear'. Blackwatch was the master of that game, but others could play it pretty well too.

The people flinched back when he approached them, and whimpered a bit. Alex yanked the door out of the pen and threw it across the street, to shatter it against the building on the other side.

“Go”, he growled at them, “Hide. Don't let these fucks get you again.” He turned around and leapt off the ground before he heard their response. The civilians didn't interest him in the slightest, and any living witness was one witness too many. But he promised it to Dana, and to Cole, to take care of them. To make sure they would escape while the soldiers burned.

He just hoped he did the right thing, letting them go. If they learnt who he was, they would stab him in the back.

But then again- he was already prepared. Once Blackwatch came here, he would be ready.

“ _Fucking Hell, Mercer!”_ Alex winced slightly at the voice screaming at him from the inside of his head, and landed harshly on top of a building. Annoyed, he turned his attention inwards, and his vision was dyed in muted red and oranges.

“Heller”

“ _Don't you 'Heller' me, fuckass”_ , the Evolved growled, _“What in the ever-loving name of Fuck is going on over there?!”_ Oh joy, Heller was back in his 'at least one choice F-word in every sentence' mode. Made things so much _better_. _“My boss was all fucking jittery when I first came into work, and then she started to chew somebody out via phone. And now the news are runnin' amok!”_

Alex scoffed. Things like that were inevitable- after all, Moya had managed to convince the American military to invade an American city. Not just  _any_ American city- after Manhattan, the nearby Empire had become the main financial trade center. The Ray Sphere must have been  _seriously important_ if Moya managed to get these bastards to cooperate.

“Just out of pure curiosity, what lies are they telling you, Heller?” He asked, taking all momentum away from his Evolved.

“ _Hell, they're saying that Empire's run over with fucking Al-Qaeda. The guy that took out the city center was a sleeper agent and Muslim”_ , Heller snorted amused, _“You know, the usual lies. Rile the fucking idiots up to make them support the operation in Iraq.”_

“Hah”, Alex barked a laughter. “Do you want to know what's really going on here?” He spread his arms away from his body. “DARPA happened. They paid a gang full of scientists here to develop a weapon. But, as it is, the guy who developed the weapon didn't want to play along, and set it off early. And guess what- _one_ guy survived and got super powers out of it.”

“ _Fucking Hell”_ , Heller groaned.

“Exactly. Now DARPA employed the same guy to get the weapon back. I met with him, and Dana found the truth- and that pissed DARPA off. Now they're trying to get the weapon through force.” Alex shrugged. “I told him to find that fucking thing and destroy it, while I keep the military off our asses.”

Heller inhaled sharply.  _“Fuck. How many are dead?!”_

Alex shrugged. “I haven't counted, exactly- and it all blurs together.”

“ _Fuck! I told you not to kill Marines!”_

“Do you know what they are told to do? They are told to shoot on sight, Heller. They are told to _murder_ innocents.” He growled under his breath. “They are told to _kill_ ten million people. I can not allow this. I _will_ not allow this.”

Heller groaned.  _“Fuck. Innocent civilians against the army? Are you certain they are innocent?”_

“Yes. Most of them are starving, too. No food supplies anymore.”

“ _Fuck, it's this General Bridges, right?”_

“Yes.”

Heller exhaled.  _“This all fucked up sideways.”_ There was a short silence.  _“Okay. I try to get Hetty on Bridges's ass. See whether she can stop him. However, you- you better fucking stop killing the Marines, you hear me? Damage's done, but don't try to be even more of an asshole than you already are.”_

“Really? Then how am I supposed to prevent them from murdering the civilians? Ask nice?” Alex scoffed. “Death is the easiest choice.”

“ _Yeah, but we both know that they'll just send in more, until you are knee-deep in bodies. And then they'll nuke the place and tell everyone it was your fault.”_ Heller snorted and Alex had the distinct impression he was crossing his arms and glared at him like only a disappointed father could (and, seeing as they were talking to each other telepathically, it made for an amusing image). _“You don't need to leave them alone, for Fuck's sake. Just knock them around for a bit until they have to be extracted and fixed back up.”_

Alex furrowed his brows and inclined his head. “Injured- but still alive?” He paused for a moment. “Huh.” That would be a good idea, actually- a dead guy was a dead guy, and nobody needed to take care of them. But injured guys needed a lot of care, and a lot of supplies and money. If he couldn't cripple the military by killing their men, then maybe he could cripple them by  _sparing_ them? Admittedly, it wasn't something he ever gave serious thoughts to- after all, he was a weapon and it was plainly easier to just kill these fucks- but it was worth a shot. Adapt, evolve, grow.

Alex scoffed again and shook his head, however. “These fucks made their choice. By going in here and  _killing_ without question, they painted a large target on their asses. Though I guess I can try to...not aim at vital regions of their bodies.”

“ _So, you're gonna show mercy?”_

“No, not mercy. When I see someone shooting somebody they aren't supposed to shoot, I will know no pity. But the others-” He frowned. “If they get help quickly enough they'll survive.”

Heller sighed.  _“That's gotta be enough.”_

“You just make sure your boss manages to get Bridges on a leash”, Alex reminded the Evolved. “Or else I _will_ have to continue with _lethal_ force. Got it?”

“ _I fucking know. Jesus- you ever tried to figure out how I am supposed to tell her where I got these information from?”_

“That's your problem, not-” Alex cut himself off when his back bristled in alarm. He'd seen the dark clouds hanging overhead for a while now, but now something had turned _ugly_. Out of instinct, he whipped around, eyes narrowing on the Historic in the distance.

Almost immediately, an unknown icy emotion started rooting deep inside his stomach.  _Terror_ , stolen memories whispered. He was experiencing terror at the sight of a massive white dome growing at the east-most end of the city. It rose high into the sky, blinding him even at that distance, before it collapsed into itself and exploded its shockwave outwards, sending dust flying everywhere. The thunder clap of the blast reached him only moments later, making him swear and duck low.

“ _What was that?!”_ Heller asked, seemingly having heard it through the mental link they shared. _“Fuck, was that a fucking nuke?!”_

“Ray Sphere”, Alex growled enraged. “Somebody fired it off again.”

“ _What the fuck is a Ray Sphere?!”_

“The thing that caused this entire shit in the beginning”, Alex snapped. He lunged off the roof and headed to the east, hurrying to be the first at the blast crater. If it was true what White told them, then the Ray Sphere was going to be there and could simply be picked up. But the blast did not go unnoticed, either- the jets overhead turned away and headed back to base. Moya would know what happened- and would send her own men to get it. Alex had to hurry to reach it before they did.

“ _Mercer-”_

“Just take care that these bastards here don't do anything drastic! I have to check up on something!” Alex cut the connection.

* * *

 

Kessler had called. And more even, he told Cole to meet him at Staton building.

_Finally!_

Now he didn't have to keep looking for him. Now he could go right up to him and  _murder_ him. Kill him for what he's done. To Empire. To him. To  _Trish_ .

Cole's lips peeled away in a snarl. Kessler made a mistake summoning him to Staton Building. He wouldn't escape him. Not this time. He would end him. And nobody was going to stop him from doing exactly that.

The First Sons he encountered pulled back, allowing him free passage. Cole scowled at them, but didn't bother going after them- after all, Kessler was waiting. He would get to them  _after_ he crushed their boss.

_Get Alex_ , a voice in his head whispered, _Let him take the brunt of the attacks_ .

_Alex is busy keeping Moya's men away from Empire,_ Cole mentally scoffed,  _Kessler is mine._

His expression darkened as he headed towards the Crater. Staton building was probably the only construction that remained standing after the Blast, and this was where Kessler was going to be.

His stomach cramped together when he reached the crater's edge. Thousands had died here, vaporized like John had been, or burnt alive through the Blast. Cole forced himself to continue moving though- there was no time to be distracted. Kessler had murdered so many others, using him as a weapon- but now he would reap in what he had created. Cole was no-one's weapon, nobody got to use him.

He reached the center of the Crater, the piece of street he'd woken up on. Cole growled and glanced around, noticing the broken cables peeking out of the rubble. They were still sparking, but the edges looked fresh. As if somebody dug them up just for him.

Kessler?

The courier scowled. Whatever his reasons for doing this were, he would know no mercy. Not this time.

His back bristled and he whirled around, fists clenched and eyes narrowed to slits. In front of him, just a few feet away, the air contorted and rippled. Cole could feel the static electricity gathering there, seconds before Kessler simply appeared out of nothing. His blue glowing eyes were equally narrow, but his posture was relaxed. It was as if he didn't regard Cole as a threat. His clothes had long since been repaired (or maybe he'd gotten new ones after Alex tried to maul him), leaving his worn trench coat back in pristine condition. The metal gauntlet on his right arm glowed eerily in the darkness, and lightning twitched through the black clouds overhead. Kessler's hood hid much of his wrinkled face that indicated his true age, but no matter how  _old_ he was- Cole knew that he was  _not_ weak. It would be a mistake to underestimate him.

So he clenched his fists a bit harder and carefully stepped back to duck slightly. He was ready to take the old man out. Kessler took notice of his pose and scoffed, though Cole thought he'd seen a tiny smile on his lips. The older conduit turned his attention to the crater, lifting his arms slightly. “Here we are”, he said, and his voice sent shivers down Cole's back. “Back where it all started.” He paused, then turned to face the younger. “You know, I was worried you wouldn't live through the Blast. But you were fine. More than fine, actually.”

Cole pulled his lips away from his teeth in a snarl. “ _Why_ ?” He hissed. “Why me?!” His eyes narrowed some more. “If you want to kill me- why not kill me when I was defenseless?”

“Oh?” Kessler seemed amused.

“You were there”, Cole snapped, “After the Blast. I heard your voice.”

Kessler chuckled. “That's where you're wrong, Cole. I do not want to kill you. I want you to become stronger, stronger than I ever was.” He cocked his head, blue eyes resting on the younger man. “For that, I've been there. I watched you. Every step of your life, Cole.”

Cole growled at the older man, eyes blazing. Kessler had always been there, had always watched- had planned for  _seventy years_ to  _murder_ Empire City. He had  _planned_ for all of this, had persuaded Moya to take control of the city, had these weapons brought in with which the Reapers and Dustmen killed even more civilians.

And Kessler also took Zeke and  _killed_ Trish.

_Kessler killed Trish_ .

Cole's mind darkened. The man who murdered his lover was here, right in front of him- _willing_ _to die_. This was it, this was the final confrontation. Cole would win this. He wouldn't accept a defeat- he would _kill Kessler_. Lightning snapped out of his hands and slammed into the broken ground beneath. Soothingly blue electricity rapidly bled into crimson sparks- and then it continued darkening. The red was reduced to a dull glow restricted to the edges, while the lightning itself turned pitch _black_. Cole's teeth were bared as rage overtook. Kessler glanced at the black lightning, before he suddenly vanished in a flurry of white sparks. He didn't flee, though- he simply got ready.

Kessler appeared just a few yards further away, swiping his metal-covered hand from one side to the other. Several white-colored electric grenades, not unlike Cole's own, appeared along the arch of the swing, and bounced off and into his direction.

_Electricity? Against him?_ Cole scoffed at the thought and was about to take the blow, when his skin tickled unpleasantly. Without even knowing  _why_ , he lunged to the side, though not fast enough to completely avoid the grenades. As they blew off, Cole found himself unpleasantly reminded of the time he jumped into the Smith Fountain- the electricity wasn't absorbed into his body, but rather ravaged its way through his system, frying him on the inside.

Pain snapped through his system, though Cole bit the groan back ruthlessly.

Whatever powers Kessler had- they were  _far_ superior to his own.

Suddenly, the old man was  _right there_ , sneering down at Cole as he brought his metal-clad fist down, effortlessly cracking the ground. Cole swore and managed to roll to the side to get his skull out of the danger zone, but he still felt the shockwave racing through the floor, covering an area of several square meters with ease. It wasn't unlike his own shockwaves- and much stronger than the Reaper or Aura conduit's attacks. Cole realized how much damage it would have caused in the past- one Reaper conduit had injured him gravely, though now he did manage to shake Kessler's much more powerful shockwave off with no greater trouble.

Kessler didn't let him catch his breath, though, because he immediately yanked his hand upwards, sending a second shockwave racing through the ground in a straight line. Cole noticed the floor split open like it had been cleaved open by a particularly large blade, and swung around to shoot several bolts of lightning into Kessler's direction, just to get him to back off.

_He will absorb my lightning_ , his mind whispered,  _he's much stronger than I am._

When he dodged the attack by teleporting away, however, Cole's eyebrows shot upwards. Because he didn't take it- he  _avoided_ it. And that meant, Kessler too could not deal with Cole's electricity.

The younger instantly jumped back to his feet and fired his explosive ball lightning at the older in a rapid succession, just for the guy to effortlessly avoid them by constantly teleporting all over the place. And then suddenly he changed his movement, zig-zagging at a breakneck speed  _towards_ the courier, all without actually  _moving_ . Cole brought his arms up in an attempt to shield himself when Kessler collided into him. He threw a powerful shockwave into his direction, throwing him off his feet. Cole hit the ground hard, gasping in pain and groaning.

Kessler halted his attacks, sneered down on him instead. “Your mother is ashamed of you”, he hissed in a near-whisper, and Cole's spine turned to ice. “She lies”, Kessler commented, “Tells people you're a teacher.” He chuckled darkly and Cole's rage mounted. “No-one respects a bike messenger.”

“SHUT UP!” The younger roared, unleashing black lightning everywhere. Stone shattered upon making contact, and Kessler looked _too pleased_ with himself. Shit- he _knew_ about his parents. He _knew_ them.

Cole wouldn't say he was  _terrified_ for his family's health, as his parents and younger brother always nagged him for his own choices to the point he stopped talking to them completely- but if Kessler  _knew_ what they were thinking about him, then they were  _in danger_ . Cole didn't want to be the one to be blamed for their death- not like with Trish. Not again.

He snarled and dove at Kessler, chucking several grenades to his side. Kessler dodged them, and Cole followed up with a lightning bolt. He grazed the old man's side, only through sheer luck, but it showed him that Kessler was not indestructible.

Kessler teleported backwards, to stand in the center of the crater. Cole saw white static crackle around him, saw how he lifted his arms- only to throw them to the front and unleash a single beam of white energy, not even a thunder bolt but more a ion beam, and from the palms of his hands. Cole instantly dove to the side, trying to get behind some loose rubble to avoid it, only to witness in terror how the blast literally ate its way through a boulder to the side, leaving behind a white-glowing  _melted_ hole inside it. Cole realized that hiding wouldn't cut it- he just leapt back to his feet and dashed in a circle around Kessler, feeling the hot attacks behind his back rip through the broken remains of what had been central Empire.

He heard a hiss and whipped around, witnessing the old man drop to one knee, panting harshly. Cole immediately went for him, unleashing everything he had to shoot as many lightning bolts as he could at the terrorist.

Kessler grunted once the black lightning made contact with him, though he came back to his feet entirely  _too fast_ , teleporting away and instantly assaulting Cole with another barrage of grenades.

“I see, you have figured out my weakness”, the old man taunted. “It's true, I'm not as spry as I used to be- but you'll find I'm still tougher than I look.”

And suddenly, he was  _right there_ . Cold, claw-like metal fingers reaching for the younger. Cole bit back a startled yelp and tried to fend him off, only for Kessler to effortlessly grab a hold of him to leave him sneering into his face. Kessler charged up, and thousands of volts slammed through Cole's body, burning their way deeper and deeper into his flesh. Cole instantly mimicked his action, trying to counter with whatever he had.

“You're weak”, Kessler growled as he easily overpowered the younger. It was ridiculous how _strong_ that old coot was. “All of this had been for nothing.” He freed his metal hand and slapped it into Cole's face, and white lightning raced through his brain. Cole's world instantly turned gray, his blood roared in his ears, drowning out the shrill screech of his own agonized scream. His heart slammed madly in his rib cage, and for the first time he realized that he was _dying_. Panicking, he scrabbled along Kessler's wrists, trying to find _some_ purchase, but then the old man simply _let go_ of him, dropping him into a heap to the floor.

Cole gasped, trying to get away or anything, really, when he heard an enraged shout, followed by  _shooting_ . “Get your hands offa him!!”

Kessler made a disgruntled noise and teleported away, leaving Cole to twist his neck and stare wide-eyed at the shape of Zeke.

_Zeke!_

He came back!

“Cole!” Zeke hollered, “Make a run for it! I'll take care of this gas-bag!”

Kessler snorted, materializing just a few feet away from Zeke. “This doesn't concern you, fat man”, he growled. Zeke aimed his gun at Kessler, just as he threw his arm out and flung Zeke backwards, sending him flying all the way to the crater's edge.

_Zeke!!_

Cold terror flooded through Cole's body, moments before it changed into fiery hot  _rage_ . Black lightning snapped out of his body, fixing his injuries. The courier snarled and lunged to the front, tackling into Kessler while also unleashing his power to fry him. The old man flinched back in surprise, then instantly teleported away and out of reach. Cole's shoulders hunched and he became aware of his ragged breathing, but wasn't going to give up. Not now.

“No one is going to save you this time”

“You're not going to be so glib when I ram my foot up your ass!” Cole barked enraged, part of him wanting to abandon this battle and just look for Zeke, but the much larger part simply wanted to _murder_ that old buzzard.

“Is that so?” Kessler sneered, releasing his white lightning. His form blurred, and a second later, there were _three_ of them.

Which one was the  _real_ one?

Cole snarled, trying to figure out which one to fry when the ground buckled and warped. Giant black spears broke through the soil, impaling two of the Kesslers. One faded away, the other grunted in pain and teleported across the crater, pressing his flesh hand against a massive bleeding hole in his thigh. His eyes narrowed then, and he teleported away yet again, when an uncanny human shape slammed into the spot he'd just been in before. Giant wicked claws whistled through the empty air where his head had been, and a pair of crimson eyes flashed.

Cole exhaled in relief. Alex was there. Now they could tag-team Kessler, take him frown two sides and keep the pressure up.

“Hello Mercer”, Kessler scoffed, lightning knitting his wounds back together. “Finally joined us, I see?”

“Shut it, Kessler”, Mercer growled back, “We end this. Now!”

He immediately lunged at the older man. Kessler charged up and created his massive lightning bolts once more, but Alex easily rolled in mid-air to avoid the attack, slamming into the ground hard. Before Kessler had managed to target him again, Alex's body  _melted_ and burrowed into the soil, completely avoiding the attack. Kessler grunted and teleported away.

Cole jumped back into action in that moment, firing lightning bolts into his direction, drawing his attention again. Kessler zig-zagged again to appear in front of the younger, throwing another shockwave into his direction.

Cole avoided the blade-like attack, just in time for Alex to burst from the rubble and slash his massive claws at the older conduit. This time, Kessler could not teleport away fast enough, and several of the strikes shore through his flesh before he managed to get into a safe distance, where he dropped down once more, panting harshly.

“I got this!” Cole snapped, firing his lightning bolts at the older man. Kessler grunted at each hit, but his body was already healing again.

“Fuck. He's a tough coot”, Alex growled under his breath. Then a wicked grin split his features. “I _love_ it.”

“Go for it”, Cole replied, “But remember- I get to kill him.”

“With pleasure.”

* * *

 

Alex had arrived at the Long Pier way before any of Moya's men, and from afar the scent of the Blast assaulted his nose. It was the overwhelming smell of ozone, sea and hot material in general that made him gasp and involuntarily pause.

The Long Pier was  _gone_ . The remaining edges were frayed and torn, ash and something hot having burnt most of it right off. The bay was still churning, though was notably calming. The Blast was over, the Ray Sphere now probably at the bottom of the harbor. Alex clenched his teeth and leapt off the street, soaring over what he believed was the center of the dome he'd seen before his rational mind caught up to what he was doing. He had to find that damn thing and dismantle it, make sure nobody got to use it anymore. He angled his body and let himself drop into the water, his entire surface squirming in panic.

But water didn't hurt him. Redlight was hydrophobic, but Blacklight wasn't. The reason he disliked it was simply because he had been afraid to  _drown_ when he first fell into the Hudson. Back when he believed he was still human, when he believed he needed to breathe. Knowing now the truth allowed him to overcome his fears, though, and he willed himself to go deeper until his feet hit the dug-up ground of the harbor. Visibility was near zero down here, but Alex easily switched into the infrared spectrum. The Sphere should be hotter than the surrounding area, right?

But no matter in which direction he looked, he didn't find it, and his body demanded him to leave  _now_ . He broke the surface, jumping right out of the bay to land on the shattered remains of the Long Pier. No Ray Sphere, and as long it's down there, it should be secure from Moya, right?

Alex figured he had bigger concerns at the moment.

He was missing Cole. If he'd been in the Blast, then he should be around here somewhere, correct? Even if he dropped into the bay, then he should have seen him- yet he didn't. And that meant Cole wasn't here. He needed to talk to him, figure out what happened to the Sphere.

Alex inhaled the air, filtering through hundreds of smells to find the one he had come to identify with the courier.

There was a trail- and it led  _away_ from the harbor. Good, that meant he was still alive then.

Alex dashed after the track, hoping to find the man before something happened, when he became keenly aware of the cracking of thunder. He saw bright white streaks of lightning arch through the air, followed by impossible  _black_ bolts. 

He stopped for a split seconds, eyes widening beneath his hood.  _Shit_ . Cole had found Kessler.  _Cole had found Kessler_ . And they were fighting!

He swore under his breath and started sprinting, hoping to intercept the old coot. He was aware how powerful he was, but he did learn from their brief encounter at Alden's Tower. And with Cole there, they would be able to assault Kessler from both sides, keep him on his toes. The guy was old, very old, so his system should fail if they kept him running around. They should be able to weaken him, the question was only: How long would it take?

Then he heard shooting, and shouting. Dunbar? That was Dunbar's voice, wasn't it?

“This doesn't concern you, fat man.” Alex snarled at the sound of Kessler's voice, but the terrified scream of Dunbar drew his attention for the moment. He saw the man flail through the air, falling entirely too fast. Part of him just wanted to let him fall, to see what would happen, but Dana once referred to Dunbar as a _friend._ Hell- he was Cole's friend, and no matter what happened, friendships that have existed for such a long time wouldn't be gone simply at the drop of a hat.

Alex lunged off the floor and met Dunbar in mid-air, his strong arms taking a secure hold of the other man. He hit the ground hard, his feet cracking the soil so hard he dug himself in for a few inches.

Dunbar was panting audibly, and his eyes were blown wide behind his glasses, but he seemed to be unhurt. Alex dropped him to the floor, not caring in the least when he heard him squeak in surprise. He was watching the crater, where Cole and Kessler were fighting. The younger was in a bad condition, his body had taken quite the beating already, while Kessler barely seemed worse for wear. The Blacklight Runner growled and instantly shifted to his claws.

He had to take Kessler by surprise if he wanted to prevent Alden's Tower from repeating itself. Down there, Kessler summoned two copies of himself- simple optical illusions cast through his powers. Enough to blind Cole as to who the real one was, but those images lacked the heat of the real one. Finding Kessler was easy.

Alex took a single second to right himself, then he stabbed his claw into the ground and channeled himself through it. His Groundspikes tore from the soil, eradicating one of the copies and injuring the original, who teleported away with a pained grunt.

Alex didn't let him recollect himself. He snapped off the Biomass still in the ground and lunged at Kessler, who barely managed to avoid his attack.

“Hello Mercer”, Kessler sneered, and his body was healing as he watched. “Finally joined us, I see?”

“Shut it”, Alex barked back, fanning his claws out. “We end this. Now!” He pounced at Kessler again, who charged up and unleashed a powerful white bolt of lightning. Alex rolled to the side, using his Air Dash to change his trajectory. Different plan- on the ground or the air he was an easy target. But the floor was going to protect him, conduct the electricity off and keep him safe. His body fell apart as his Biomass instantly squirmed into the soil, crawling through the countless cracks and gaps in the floor. He found the mass he snapped off before and took it back into himself, then turned his attention to the surface. Down here, he couldn't see, smell or hear anything (and he was lacking a _face_ to speak of), but he could feel the tremors from above.

Pinpointing Kessler was  _easy_ . Alex catapulted himself back to the surface, reforming his body in the loose layers just below- and burst from the ground like a nightmare, claws blazing. He finally took Kessler by surprise, and his powerful talons ripped through his flesh. Being a conduit made the old man incredibly tough, and he was  _fast_ , so he managed to teleport away before Alex managed to shear through his spine. Nearly as tough as a Hunter then. But Kessler had the same weak points as the beasts had.

And he had succeeded in weakening him. Forced to the ground and immobile to heal, he was an easy target. Cole jumped into action in that moment, shouting “I got this” before he fired his lightning bolts at him to keep him down.

However, Kessler slid back to his feet after the first few hits, and teleported once more. “Fuck”, Alex heard himself say, “He's a tough coot.” At the same time, he couldn't help but feel incredibly riled up. Kessler was so powerful, so resistant to  _every type_ of attack, it made him downright  _giddy_ . He grinned widely at the recognition of this enemy. “I love it!”

Cole scoffed. “Go for it. But remember- I get to kill him.”

The Runner nodded at the younger man for a second, and his grin only widened. “With  _pleasure_ .”

He lunged again, not to hit Kessler, but to keep him on his toes. He was old, after all, and wouldn't be able to keep up with him forever. He was going to fuck up eventually, would be helpless against Blacklight.

“That's the best you can do?” The old man snorted, flexing the fingers on his metal gauntlets. Lightning rained down around him, forcing Alex to roll to the side and get into a safe distance. 

“Cole!” He snapped.

The younger chucked several grenades at his foe, forcing him to abandon his barrier. Kessler teleported away, then slammed his fist into the ground to generate a powerful shockwave. Alex and Cole both easily leapt over it, at the cost of giving Kessler room to breathe.

The old man teleported across the field and away from the two of them, expression blank once again. “Your old man carried a picture of Trish in his wallet, Cole”, he taunted, and Alex could see the younger's limbs tremble with poorly-contained  _rage_ . “He told people she was the daughter he never had. Did you know that?” Kessler smirked, “He couldn't wait for you to marry her.”

“You rotten son of a bitch.” It wasn't so much Cole's volume that startled Alex somewhat- it was the _lack_ of it. The sheer _rage_ that bled into every syllable, hatred given a voice. He was coming apart, and Kessler was taunting him, goading him every step.

He  _wanted_ the younger to kill him, but wasn't going to make it any easier for him. Again, the question was-  _why_ ?

Kessler chuckled darkly, and spread his arms to the side. “Let's not dawdle any longer.” His body sparked with white lightning, seconds before it burst outside. Kessler vanished, leaving an aura in his place. No, not one-  _five_ two-story auras.

“Ah, crap”, Cole growled.

Alex agreed, but at the same time, he whipped his head to the side, hoping to find the old man. But Kessler was nowhere to be seen.

_Auras...and vanishing. Like his conduits._

Alex's eyes flashed back into the infrared spectrum, easily spotting Kessler. “Cole”, the Runner snarled, “I see him. Can you keep his fucking auras off my ass?”

The courier scowled and black lightning snapped from his arms. “No problem. Kick him around for a bit, will you?”

“I will.”

Alex lunged at the hidden conduit. His auras immediately whipped around, and each of them slammed their fists into the ground, cratering the floor and shaking the entire crater. Any other time, the Runner would have admired them for their tenacity, but right now they were simply annoying. He rocketed off the floor, seconds before several high-powered lightning bolts hit one of them and made it fizzle off. Alex angled his body and expelled air to dash downwards, to where Kessler was. The old man had long since noticed him, and Alex could see something hot gathering in his hands. He instantly rolled to the side, avoiding one of those high-energy blasts. As soon he hit the ground, he had to dodge another blow. Kessler was powerful, no doubt, but Alex was simply  _faster_ . He could easily go a hundred miles per hour on flat ground, and could outmaneuver tank shells shot at him from close up. While he couldn't outrun  _lightning_ , he could easily avoid being  _targeted_ . Kessler could not keep up with him, couldn't focus on him in time to actually hit him.

Alex effortlessly dodged the next blast, then instantly dove at the old man from his side. Kessler wasn't fast enough, failing to avoid him when one ton of viral mass collided into him. Alex could hear bones creak under the force of the impact and the startled huff of air being punched out of the old man's lungs. Alex instantly jabbed his claws to the front, running them through the other man's lower torso, just seconds before Kessler teleported away.

Thunder cracked behind him and Alex whipped around, witnessing the old man collapse to his knees with blood starting to seep into his once pristine white coat. At the same time, the auras collapsed, and Cole instantly turned on his enemy.

The first two ball lightnings hit the old man, then he managed to pull himself together enough to summon a shield in front of his body, protecting himself against the attack. At the same moment, his wound started to grow shut in a flurry of white sparks. Slower than before.

Alex's eyes narrowed, and from the furrow in Cole's brows, he was thinking the same. Kessler was weakening.

The old man teleported again to avoid them, then came rushing towards the Runner. Alex instantly shifted to the Whipfist and swung it in a wide arc, though Kessler managed to avoid it and slam a shockwave into him, actually sending him sprawling backwards.

Alex snarled and screwed his body back into the correct position, but by then Kessler had brought enough distance between them. The black sky rumbled once- and giant pillars of lightning rained down. Far more destructive than Cole's, they ripped through the soil and scorched anything they came into contact with. Alex rushed to the side, grabbing a hold of the courier and pulled him away from the danger zone. For once, Cole didn't protest, but rather braced himself against the viral entity to target Kessler.

Alex's body bristled in discomfort when the static electricity gathered around the conduit, but he didn't let go of him, because for some reason, Kessler's lightning hurt Cole just as much as Cole's hurt Kessler.

He wondered about that, because the younger was easily able to absorb any sort of electricity, even radiation, and always came out looking better than before. So what was Kessler's secret?

Cole landed a lucky shot, hitting Kessler square in the chest. The lightning strikes stopped, and Alex immediately dropped the younger man to pounce on Kessler. The old man had stumbled back from the courier's blast, and was thus wide open. Alex swiftly shifted to his Hammerfists and brought them down with all his might. Kessler's shield popped back into existence, swallowing the blow along with the kinetic energy. Alex snarled at the old man, Kessler sneered back. “Not you”, he growled. Lightning snapped out of his body and ripped in painful strikes through the Runner's body. Alex grit his teeth, reeling back. However, he didn't let up. Close combat wasn't cutting it to get him to drop his cover- so what else was there?

Elizabeth Greene, MOTHER, flashed through his mind, and his Biomass squirmed. It coiled in tight layers just beneath his surface, then suddenly shifted to generate an extreme amount of pressure between his layers. Alex snarled and let the pressure go, part of his body tearing open in a way similar to a Devastator, but this one wasn't made of Biomass.

It was a ring of crimson energy tearing away from him and racing outwards. The force of the shockwave threw loose rubble up to the size of small boulders around like they were bits of paper caught in a breeze, but also Kessler lost his balance even though his shield swallowed up the blast.

He corrected his stance quickly, though he was careless for just a split second. A split second too much when dealing with ZEUS. Alex went back at him with his claws, razor edges gleaming in the low lighting.

Kessler offered no resistance asides from a startled gasp when the viral entity ran them through his chest. Alex twisted them and ripped them back out, maximizing the damage and tearing a good-sized gash into the old man's lungs, when he heard Cole's shout. “DIE!”

The scent of ozone had grown overwhelming, and the Runner immediately hopped back and away from his downed foe. Pillars of black lightning struck Kessler, burnt through his body and ripped the ground he was kneeling upon to shreds. Alex winced at the ear-splitting thunderclap, and brought his shield up to block some loose rubble.

The lightning storm went on for several long moments, until it finally died down. Alex slowly lowered his shields, half-expecting to find a scorched corpse, but he was surprised to find Kessler in one piece- singed and bleeding, but still very much conscious.

Only, he had no energy left at all- obviously having used it all to shield himself, and Alex could hear the labored breathing. Steps besides him told him of Cole's arrival. The courier glanced at his downed foe, then to Alex. His face was set into a frown. “Let's end this.”

* * *

 

Cole had wanted to be the one to end Kessler- when Alex had stolen it from him. It was pointless, he knew, and the older actually caused  _more_ damage with his talons than Cole would ever be able to cause with his electrical blades. And the attack had given him an opening, and opening he used to unleash his entire hatred and rage in a thunderstorm. He had poured everything he had into frying Kessler. 

For a moment, he had been worried that he had accidentally killed him, because he wanted to look him in the eyes as he took his life, but when Kessler coughed and squirmed a bit on the ground, he saw his chance.

“Let's end this.”

He moved to his fallen foe, his expression grim. He had done it, he had beaten the guy- and avenged Trish. His blood was still pulsing in his veins, and his brain running in circles, but he had defeated Kessler. Now all that was left to do was to kill him, end him once and for all. Unlike Alden, this was something he was going to do  _himself_ .

“Trish...” Cole paused, eyes narrowing. Did he just-? Kessler coughed and weakly propped himself up on his elbows, head down so the hood hid his face, but Cole could hear his pained breathing. “I'm so sorry, Trish”, Kessler whispered with a hoarse voice. “I love you. Please forgive me.” Cole furrowed his brows and carefully drew closer- did he just hear what he thought he did? Kessler- he _knew_ Trish?

And then suddenly, Kessler pounced. Cole jerked back, but not fast enough when Kessler's fingers dug into his face. He felt the blood stick to his skin, and he felt the sheer  _effort_ it took the old man to hold him down, but he put every last bit of his strength into this grab- and then pictures flashed in front of Cole's eyes.

Kessler gave him a vision, gave him his secrets- his own  _memories_ .

And Cole saw his nemesis, the Beast that extinguished all life. Kessler could have fought it when he first saw it, he could have stopped it- but fear and panic overrode his rational thoughts. Instead of fighting, he took his family and  _fled_ . He ran away, trying to keep his family safe, while abandoning everybody else.

And the Beast only grew stronger. It went on for  _years_ , with Kessler always trying to keep a step ahead of the Beast, only trying to keep his wife and daughters safe- while the world around them died. And then it was too late. He had been too late one day, just a little bit- and the Beast found and murdered his family. Everything he had sacrificed, every life he willingly doomed- and in the end nothing mattered. In the end, Kessler was alone, billions of lost lives sitting on his back, judging his every step. He could hear the whispers of those that died, heard the screams of his family over and over and  _over_ again- and he knew he could not stand up to the Beast. He had been too weak, too cowardly- and now everything was lost.

In that moment, he made the decision to never be weak again. To never allow this to happen. To stop the Beast.

And his powers responded. Kessler literally tore a hole through the fabric of  _time_ itself, and passed through it, taking only the prototype of the Ray Sphere and his intense hatred for the Beast with him. He left behind his old world, his  _time_ \- and went back nearly a century before he left in the first place.

Kessler  _went back in time_ to rewrite it, took control of the First Sons, and had them work on the prototype he took with him. Had them create the Ray Sphere- to create a weapon against the Beast.

Cole.

For  _seven decades_ he was working on this, accelerating the development of that blasted Sphere, contacted DARPA and Moya, found  _him_ , planned the very quarantine itself- he was working for that single moment when the Ray Sphere exploded in Cole's hold- killing thousands and giving him his powers.

Cole watched with wide eyes and slack jaw how Kessler dropped back lifelessly, having spent too much energy into this mental link to keep alive. In his own hand was a single picture- Kessler had stuffed it between his fingers when he gave him his memories. It had been laminated, but it was badly scratched up and worn from the decades of fighting, running and planning.

Yet it was the one thing he cherished most. The one thing that created the link between what he did, and his past- Cole's future.

It was Kessler's wedding picture. Taken on the happiest day of his life- when he married Trish with Zeke as his best man.

Cole's body shook when the realization set in. The man on the picture- the man that had married Trish- it was  _him_ . It was  _his_ face on that picture, it was  _him_ who was happily nuzzling a smiling Trish. Kessler and him-they were one and the  _same_ . Kessler was  _him_ \- he was  _Cole MacGrath_ .

He had come back in time to mold Cole- his own past self- into the savior he failed to become. He had failed to defeat the Beast, but was unwilling to accept it. Instead, he gave his past self those powers, the same powers he had- and forced him to use them, to become stronger than he was.

And to do this, he killed Trish- the woman he loved- Cole loved- so he wouldn't be tied down by emotions, so he wouldn't be rendered unable to do anything like Kessler had been, so long ago. He wanted Cole to become strong, strong enough to do whatever was necessary to destroy the same thing that killed his world.

Cole didn't want to accept it, didn't want to have  _anything_ to do with that bastard- but it was too detailed to be a lie. No, Kessler  _was_ him. He  _was_ Kessler. They were the same.

Cole stepped back, brain racing. He became aware of Alex besides him, but couldn't tear his gaze away from Kessler's body. The body of his future self.

“Cole?” Alex asked, and there was genuine worry in his voice. “What happened?”

“I-” Cole swallowed. “You- you'll figure it out.” He choked back the lump in his throat, and his blood began boiling. Kessler was dead- he took the life of the man who took Trish's- but the victory felt just so _empty_. This entire time, he had done _exactly_ what Kessler had planned- what _he_ had planned- and he felt so used. So fed up with everything.

Kessler had taken  _everything_ from him, everything in the name of 'common good'- he  _killed_ the woman he loved (they both loved), and now Cole couldn't even relish in this victory. Kessler had taken this from him too. He hated him, hated  _everything_ about him- hated that it was  _him_ who ended like  _that_ . His rage was curdling through his stomach like an angry snake.

“You can have him”, he growled at Alex, turning to face the mutant. “Leave nothing behind.”

He didn't miss the excited gleam in the other's eyes as he turned away, watching how Zeke stood there, shuffling his feet. Cole peeled his lips away from his teeth in a snarl, and simply stormed off. He ignored Zeke's voice behind him, ignored the fleshy tearing sounds Alex made as he took what was left of Kessler.

He couldn't grasp a single clear thought- except  _one_ \- he would be ready. He would be ready for Moya and her soldiers. He would be ready to destroy any and all opposition. He would be ready for the Beast, he would kill it. He would stop it from destroying their world like it had done before.

 


	30. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kessler's finished, time to tie up loose ends. Moya still needs to die, after all.

** Aftermath **

 

Cole was Kessler.  Kessler was Cole. One was the other.  _They were the same_ . Cole let out a wordless roar of anguish as he dove at the nearest group of First Sons, unleashing lightning everywhere to kill them. His body was aching, hurting from his battle with Kessler- but he couldn't rest. His brain was screaming at him, trying to make sense of memories that weren't  _his_ , but at the same time it was always  _him_ in the mirror. His nerves were frazzled, his body throbbing with the need to destroy, to  _kill_ to try finding an outlet, something that would take his mind away from what happened.

But all that echoed through his head were Kessler's memories, his hatred against himself for having failed his family. Cole swallowed, hard, forcing the tears stinging at the corner of his eyes back. Trish and Kessler- no,  _he_ and her were married. They even had two daughters, for Hell's sake. As Kessler's memories of happier times settled, Cole's stomach dropped. Because that bastard-  _himself_ \- took exactly that kind of happiness away from him. He murdered Trish, eradicated their future together, just so Cole would be able to take down the Beast.

He could  _taste_ Kessler's fear, his hatred for this creature, and he knew that it was going to come here too, that it too was going to try to destroy his world, just as it did Kessler's.

He had to stop it. But  _how_ ?

How was he supposed to do that?

Kessler came back to his mind, and his teeth ground together enraged.  _Kessler_ had been strong enough in the beginning, but he didn't fight until it was too late- and  _Cole was Kessler_ . Cole had beaten him, so he was  _stronger_ than him. He would be able to defeat the Beast  _before_ it would become too powerful.

However, the simple thought of _Kessler_ made his stomach turn. _Kessler and him_ _were one and the same_. And Cole still hated him. He hated _himself_ for having turned into that- for not having fought that damn bastard, for not having saved the World. With what right did Kessler assume he could control someone else's life, expecting _them_ to do his dirty work? With what right did he fuck up _his own_ life? 

Kessler was dead and gone now, doomed to a death worse than anything he'd ever seen- but he had succeeded in tainting Cole, had corrupted his own past self, had destroyed his future in one single swoop. Because of him, Trish was dead.

The lightning roared around him, along with his own anguished howl of pain, but the First Sons around were all charred corpses by now. Not enough to swallow his rage. Not enough to take his mind away from the emptiness. Not enough to fix his heart.

Kessler was gone, and with him, the white-hot rage that had driven Cole. As scary as it had been, he wanted his black lightning back. Just to have something to hold to, just to have something that reflects his insides. But when he killed Kessler- when he killed  _himself_ , it had turned back into its usual blue. Like nothing had happened, like everything was still okay.

But it wasn't.

Cole no longer had any energy left. He choked once and dragged himself through the trash-littered street and away from his last victims. Away from the open. He was so tired, shattered on the inside. And, right now, he didn't want to see anybody. So he moved away from the Crater, from Kessler's memories. But  _he_ was still there, and he would never leave.

He stumbled through the night, not paying attention to his surroundings, until he stopped and stared at Trish's smiling face. Cole swallowed once and dropped to the floor, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on his knees.

“I killed him”, he muttered in a hollow, broken tone. “I killed Kessler, Trish.” _For you_ , he wanted to say, but the words died in his throat. Trish didn't like killing, she didn't like _him_ killing. And she certainly wouldn't like him killing in her name.

And even though Kessler  _deserved_ it, in the end, it made  _no_ difference  _at all_ . Trish was still dead. And Cole was still empty. Still broken.

“I'm so sorry Trish. I love you”, Cole whispered. It was his fault she was dead. He dragged her into this, he made her a target just by trying to win her back, and he couldn't catch her. A heart-wrenching sob tore itself from his throat as he sunk into himself. “Please forgive me.”

* * *

 

Cole is Kessler. Kessler is Cole. One is the other.

Alex felt like the world was spinning out of control. As the first memories settled, he half-expected having been drugged by something, or that somebody brainwashed Kessler, implanted fake memories- but he quickly figured out that everything he saw was  _true_ .

Every connection he found in the conduit's brain, every neurone pathway had grown  _naturally_ \- every bit he found, every memory was  _real_ .

Time Travel to the future was possible in theory, but to the  _past_ was  _impossible_ , at least according to the hundreds of scientists in his head.

_Obviously it's as impossible as a sapient virus running around in a dead man's body_ .

Alex shook his head with a grimace. It was impossible, yet it was the  _only_ explanation. Kessler  _was_ Cole- a different version of Cole. One that orchestrated the Ray Sphere Blast, to speed up what happened naturally to  _him_ in his younger self. One that violently tore apart the threads of  _time itself_ to change the future.

His back bristled as if icy cold water ran down his spine. Because if Kessler- and Cole to an extent- were able to  _control time_ , then conduits were vastly more powerful than he ever believed. It scared him. Really scared him. 

He didn't like it.  _Blacklight_ was not supposed to be afraid, yet he couldn't help but feel a primal fear run along the length of his back. Not only because of the sheer power these conduits were able to put out, but also because he  _knew_ the Beast was coming.

And the Beast was every source for Kessler's fear, for his hatred, just as much as it was Alex's now. It scared him, to know even he stood no chance against the Beast that destroyed the entire world.

He'd seen  _himself_ die against that thing. The Beast had torn him apart, burnt him down to the last cell. Killed Blacklight.

Alex swallowed, more out of habit. Kessler and the Alex from his time- they were allies. Or used to, until the Beast destroyed the city Dana was in. Driven by rage and grief, Alex had attacked it- and  _lost_ . Not just lost- he had been utterly destroyed, eradicated so nothing was left of him. Kessler had mourned his friend, even as he tried to keep his family safe. But at that time he already realized that everything was lost and he was living on borrowed time. And the Beast showed him that he was  _weak_ .

Driven by his own failure and thousands of dead faces, Kessler then did the one thing that disgusted Alex. He went back in time and betrayed everything he believed in, turned into what he hated, what he had sworn to  _never_ become. To unleash Hell in Empire. To make Cole into the savior he failed to become.

To doom  _himself_ , force his own self to adapt. To fight the battle he was too old to fight.

Cole was Kessler. Kessler was Cole.

Everything suddenly made  _sense_ .  _This_ was why he hesitated attacking the old man. This was why he had fought sloppy on their first confrontation.

Cole was his  _friend_ \- someone his instincts told him to not harm, and thus, Kessler had been secure from him, using his confusion to take him out.

Cole was Kessler. And Kessler was Cole.

Belatedly, Alex realized that this was why Cole's lightning hurt Kessler, and Kessler's hurt Cole- The only source of electricity that harmed the conduit  _was his own_ (as evident when he came into contact with too much water). Kessler and Cole, despite being two separate identities, were still the same. 

Alex still had problems wrapping his head around  _that_ , though.

He heard something shuffle behind his body, and turned to glance at Dunbar. Dunbar- who gave in to his cowardly nature and ran away with Kessler, giving him the Sphere in the process. The Sphere that now was destroyed (at least according to Kessler's memories). After getting a hold if it, he had locked Dunbar away, without sparing him a second glance. And Alex realized he couldn't be angry at the fat man. No, Kessler's own pain came back to his mind, the agony over losing his best friend to the Beast. They had been friends for a very long time, and seeing him again tore at Kessler's heart so badly, it still echoed in Alex's chest.

The Runner himself was still pissed, and probably pissed enough to rip Dunbar's head off, but Kessler's memories took the edge out of him, so all he felt was a disgruntled apathy towards the other man.

Didn't mean he had to be  _nice_ to that guy. He would leave it up to Cole, though. If he decided he never wanted to see him again, then Alex would make sure he'd never have to.

Dunbar shuffled his feet and glanced at the Runner. “Uh-” he started to say, but Alex cut him off.

“Save it”, he growled. He was pretty damn sure he didn't see him consume Kessler's corpse, or he would be making different noises by now. But memories or not- _Alex Mercer_ was still annoyed with the fat man. And, to prevent anything like that to happen again- he had to put down some clear boundaries. “Listen, and listen well”, he ground out, careful to slip _just_ enough threat in his voice. “I have exactly three categories for _humans_ \- Dana, Don't Kill and Kill. You are still in the 'Don't kill' group, but you are dangerously close to the side you _don't want_ to be.” He bared his teeth and hunched his shoulders, but jammed his hands into his pockets. “I am not going to harm you, because you are still Cole's friend- but in case you haven't noticed- you _betrayed_ Cole. You sold him out to Kessler, made us run through the _entire_ Historic to get that blasted Sphere.” His eyes narrowed. “Cole blames _you_ for Trish's death.”

Dunbar's shoulders slumped and he exhaled shakily. “I know”, he whispered. “I know, okay man? I screwed up, big time.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, a movement Alex now remembered painfully clear from better times.  _Before_ the Beast. He shook his head and forced his newest set of memories back.

“Listen- jus'”, Dunbar swallowed, “Jus' make sure Cole's okay.”

Alex inclined his head, watching the other man struggle for words. “Cole 'n me- we go way back, you know? And I screwed it over big time. Because I was a coward. So...I'll try to make it up to him. But if-” he swallowed and righted his shades, “If he doesn't want to see me again, then I'll stay away. Jus' make sure he doesn't get himself killed, okay?”

_Hey, I know this is bein' hard for you- but you gotta make sure Trish is okay. Don' worry about me, ol' Zeke always gets the laugh in the end._

Alex shook his head when Kessler's memories came back to the front of his mind. His memories of the last time he'd seen his friend alive. He frowned at the man, forcing the remnants of the conduit back.

But he wasn't enraged anymore. He just felt tired, and confused. Alex exhaled through his nose and turned away. “If you want to make amends- find Dana. She was near the hospital last time I saw her.” He had no idea where she now was, though he was certain she'd found a secure place. Also, he had noticed some snippets of her and Cole talking when he raced away. They wanted to bring the people to safety.

One of the only secure places around was what was  _beneath_ the city. The old Air Raid Tunnels.

“Yeah”, Dunbar huffed, shuffling his feet. “Guess I'm goin' to do that.” He glanced at the Runner. “What about you?”

“I am needed elsewhere”, Alex replied. “And I am still pissed about you. So if you don't want me to break your face, it's better I stay away.”

He didn't wait to hear the other's answer, but rather turned away and jumped off the ground, catapulting his body eleven stories upwards before he switched to his gliding power and easily soared away from the Crater. He hadn't been lying when he said that there was still something left to do- after all, now with Kessler's memories inside his head, he  _knew_ where the First Sons were. He knew the locations of every single of their labs, of their hideouts, of their storages. He pondered for a moment, trying to decide on whether to start destroying their arms, or get the supplies to Dana.

“ _Moya, I'd like you to meet David. Until a couple of weeks ago, he was working as a security guard at this facility.”_

“ _My God, Kessler...he's...how many times has he been exposed to the Ray Sphere?”_

“ _Eleven times, counting this test. Ah, but you haven't heard the best part, my dear. Each additional exposure unlocks a new ability. It doesn't replace any abilities, it adds to them.”_

“ _So one person can wield multiple powers at the same time?”_

“ _Yes”_

“ _This...this is incredible. An army of people like David would be unstoppable.”_

“ _Pretty exciting, isn't it? And please put on your goggles. It's going to be very bright here in a moment.”_

Right. Alex's frown turned into a snarl.  _David Warner_ . Kessler's lab rat. Barely human anymore. Kessler locked him away, and he should be weakened. Alex needed to kill him before he woke up.

He changed trajectory in mid-air and zipped across the Historic, his expression darkening. After David was dead- Moya was next. She was one of those that made the Ray Sphere possible. She needed to die.

As he passed over the Historic, the true extent of the quarantine became obvious. Too many people dead in the streets, too many people starving, crying, screaming for justice. Before he hadn't noticed it, was too busy keeping Cole alive, but now he could pay more attention to what was around him. He could still hear the roar of fighter jets circling the island, but for now they kept calm during the night. Tomorrow he would need to rip these idiots a new one, though.

As he stopped in front of the First Son's main lab, he furrowed his brows. The lab was gone, pretty recently too, because Kessler had no memories of this thing being torn down. Alex guessed some of the fighter jets made it into the city this far.

And even though Cole was pretty durable, it was possible David was long since deceased- he was, according to Kessler, in a weakened state, after all. Alex still knelt down and plunged both hands into the rubble, then unraveled his Biomass to snake it through pretty much the entire complex. He easily found several bodies- still warm- but not a single living one. He'd keep an eye on it, though it seemed that this particular problem solved itself.

He exhaled and got up, pulling his tendrils back into himself. This was no problem any longer, might as well do something to spend the time with.

Dana. He would look for Dana, then take out the storage of the First Sons. The people here needed food. Sooner rather than later.

* * *

 

Robert Cross sat in the lunch room, sipping coffee and going over some paper work. It had been three days since he'd talked to Dana Mercer. Blackwatch was buzzing like a hornet's nest, but for most of the time, they kept silent.  _Yet_ .

Until now, they had no  _solid_ proof that Mercer was in Empire City. And with the thing in Manhattan having run out of control, the government was looking too close at Blackwatch, forcing them to wait until they had some real evidence. Cross had been careful about the reports from the city coming in, but much to his relief, there wasn't a single word about ZEUS, Alex Mercer, or even 'scary hoodie bastard'. This made his job a bit easier, and didn't put his neck on line that much.

“ _This is Linda Kaufman from USTV News”_ , a female voice said. The Specialist lifted his head and glanced at the television tucked into a corner of the break room. Several more heads turned and watched the petite brunette on the screen. She wore a military-issue bullet-proof west, and was smiling into the camera.

“ _I'm here with General Darren Bridges, Commander of the 82_ _nd_ _Airborne division from Fort Bragg, North Carolina.”_ The camera panned to get a view of the mustached general standing besides Linda. Cross could spy the city in the background, and several heavily-armed soldiers keeping the barricade intact.

The Specialist scoffed. Bridges, huh? That fucker was one of the loose cannons in the military. No loyalty other than money, no balls. He'd do whatever he was told to, as long the cash was flowing. Kaufman smiled and turned to the General.  _“First of all, General, thank you and your men for your courageous service.”_

Bridges was smiling too, and Cross scowled. Political men and their fake smiles. He hated them.  _“Thanks Linda”_ , the man commented,  _“We appreciate that.”_

“ _What's the current situation in Empire City?”_ The woman asked.

Bridges inclined his head slightly and nodded towards the city in the background.  _“As you know, the quarantine is now in its twenty-fourth day and by large, things are as we expect them to be. The situation's stable, and supplies are moved to the city.”_

Someone in the background scoffed loudly. Cross agreed to that non-verbal reply. Sure. Supplies. Whoever believes  _that_ . Blackwatch  _knew_ perfectly well what was going on there, even without being there. Bridges tried to starve the people into obedience, tried to lure whoever they wanted out through force. This wasn't some quarantine- this was an invasion. It was surprising they waited that long, though.

“ _General”_ , Kaufman cut in, _“Human Rights groups claim that people inside Empire City are starting to starve.”_

Bridges snorted.  _“Excuse my language, but these pantywaists have no idea what they are talking about.”_ He crossed his arms, glaring defiantly.  _“They're so worried about their agenda that they refuse to see what's really happening. Makes me sick.”_

Kaufman nodded sagely.  _“Yeah. It's sad how these rumors start.”_

“ _Well, I'm just glad that you're giving us the chance to correct the record and get the truth out to the people of America.”_

Truth? No,  _this_ was a lie. And Cross knew it. Shame that eighty percent of the people of America were idiotic assholes that swallowed whatever they were told.

Kaufman nodded again.  _“How are things progressing with the vaccine?”_

Bridges folded his arms behind his body.  _“The CDC can answer that better than me, but during our morning briefing, someone mentioned that the city is now eighty percent plague free.”_

“ _That's wonderful”_ , Kaufman commented. The camera panned to the side, catching a glimpse of several EMTs running around. _“However, as we see here, not all is well, isn't it?”_

Bridges exhaled annoyed.  _“Yeah, sadly, this is the result of the explosion itself.”_ He shrugged.  _“When we arrived here, we didn't expect terrorists. Why, some of us say that it's their fault that plague is running rampant- but at the moment they are still hiding behind the innocent civilians, using them as hostage. We're currently trying to draw them out to protect the good people of Empire.”_

“ _Really?”_ , Kaufman drawled. _“I've been hearing rumors about...Superpowers. Are they true?”_

Bridges winced.  _“Sadly, yes. You see, whatever these bastard's been doing, they have gained unique abilities that made it extremely hard for us to get into the city.”_ He waved them over.  _“Here, these are records we took over the course of the last two weeks.”_

Cross arched his eyes when the image shifted to the grainy records of some surveillance gear. It showed a guy in a white hoodie that send powerful shockwaves through the ground, tearing the earth apart, before he teleported away. Then there were new images, a guy summoning crabs made of trash, another one creating a God-to-honest Golem that destroyed a serious amount of cars. Then another few guys, some creating something like giant auras, others vanishing into nothingness.

“ _We call these freaks 'Conduits'”_ , Bridges told them, _“Our guys say they got their powers through the Blast. Well, we're currently trying to figure out how to stop them, you know?”_

Cross arched his eyebrow when the image changed. It now showed a photography of a young man with shaved head and a yellow-and-black jacket.  _“Who's this?”_ Kaufman asked.

“ _We identified him as one Cole MacGrath. A No-Good, a nobody. Or at least, we believed that. As it is, he's the prime suspect in the Empire City bombing that started it- we have evidence showing him handling the bomb before the Blast- and he got powers too.”_ The General snorted audibly, _“Now he's constantly attacking our men, destroys important supplies and always manages to evade capture.”_ Cross watched with interest the grainy images as another surveillance shot. He saw this young man- this Cole MacGrath- leap off a five-story building, creating a God-to-honest _Lightning Bolt_ upon meeting the ground. The men closest to him went flying, then the man whipped around and fired grenades made of pure electricity at the men.

Huh. Cross heard the other men whisper among themselves- because controlling electricity was a damn dangerous ability.

“ _MacGrath is not everything, though”_ , Bridges commented in a downcast voice. _“We have identified at least one other 'conduit', one that seems to serve as MacGrath's right hand. It appears this one has the tendency to violently murder whoever gets into their path, and so far, we have no clear images of them. We're still trying to figure out who that person is.”_

The image changed again, and Bridges' voice was clear.  _“This is the only record we have of that guy, retrieved from a scene of slaughter, so it's not pretty.”_

It showed a group of soldiers moving through the derelict-looking streets of Empire City, when suddenly the image shook. The camera was whirled around, only to spy a single figure in the dark. There was a pair of crimson eyes, seconds before the figure lunged at the men. Inside the lunch room, several plates hit the ground, and more than a few men swore loudly under their breaths. Cross just sat there, staring, as a pair of massive claws came into view on screen, tearing a man in half.

“Motherfucker!”

* * *

 

Three days.

Three days ago Cole killed Kessler. Three days ago he murdered the guy that destroyed Empire City. Because of the promise he'd given Trish.

Trish, who died five days ago. Cole groaned and knelt down besides her grave, brushing his fingers across the damp earth. “Hey Trish”, he whispered. “Been out today again. Beat up a bunch of Marines Moya send in, then took care of some assholes trying to steal what we had.” He paused, as if listening. “Yeah, Alex was there too... Don't worry. We send them back with burns and broken limbs- but they'll live...You can bet on it, he didn't like it so much.”

There was no reply, of course. Cole exhaled and dropped his head a bit more, staring at the picture Kessler gave him. Their wedding picture. “I failed”, he muttered, “I failed to keep my promise. I told you I would allow nothing to harm you. I failed.” He glanced at her smiling face on the picture tagged to the cross. “I am so strong, so powerful. I can summon lightning from the sky, float through the air, shoot electric rockets from my fingertips...” He choked once, and tears started welling up in his eyes. “But I can't bring back the dead. I'm sorry, Trish.” He placed his palm in his face and sobbed. “I'll always love you, Trish.”

He heard steps behind his body, but didn't bother looking back. His senses didn't warn him, and between him and Alex, there weren't so many enemies left anymore. Plus, everybody knew better than to bother him when he was here with her.

“Cole?” Cole sniffed once and wiped his sleeve across his face. A hand was placed on his shoulder. “You all right?” The warden asked after a moment.

“I don't think so”, the courier replied in a rather dead tone.

The warden sighed and pulled him to his feet. “I know that feeling”, he admitted. He waved his arm a bit, gesturing to the park. “My grandkids used to play in this park, you know, before all of this. I always liked it here, especially in fall when the trees turned.” He slowly patted Cole's shoulder. “This is a good place, Cole. She'll be at peace here.”

The courier sighed. “I know”, he muttered. Maybe she was. But who can tell? She was dead, he wasn't. And there was still so much left to do.

“How's the situation?” Cole asked, glancing at the sky.

Harms sighed. “Could be better, but you guys do a good job at keeping the Marines out and those other idiots in line. Hope they get the message. It can't go on like this. We'll need help. And soon.”

Cole scoffed. “They won't. This is our battle, and we are going to win this.” But food, food would be nice. A lot of the people left the underground during the nights, just to scavenge something to eat. Alex had spend most of the time he did not hunt down the soldiers attacking them looking for food too, food for the people, or they teamed up and took care of rioters trying to steal for their own gain. He usually hauled whatever he could scrounge up to their hideout in the shelters, for the people to take. Most of them didn't eat any of it, and rather gave it to the children and the sick people. For a moment, he could almost forget how selfish and disgusting most people were, but it looked like being stuck in this together only strengthened the bonds. It even made  _Alex_ a little friendlier.

It was  _very considerate_ of him too, to leave all First Sons he did not find in their bases to Cole. Every time he thought of them, of their part in killing Trish, his rage swallowed up the emptiness inside of him. The only way he could remedy that was by murdering these fucks, make sure they never harmed anybody again. On the same note, the Dustmen- what was left of them, and the Reapers held back. Occasionally, they would get them when they were careless, but they weren't any danger anymore. They did not have any military training, and thus were easily picked off, even by their militia.

But the First Sons were all his.

There was something about Harms' expression that told him he was keeping something back. But it was an expression he knew well. Familiar anger and agony surged through his body as he turned to the warden. “You track down the First Sons?”

The older man held his gaze for a moment, then his shoulders slumped. “Last of 'em”, he admitted, “Dug in over by pier 12.” Cole's expression darkened rapidly. He  _knew_ that killing these bastards wouldn't bring back Trish, but the anger easily overrode the sorrow. And this was what he didn't  _want_ to feel. He didn't want to realize that Trish was gone. But she was, and all he had left was rage.

Harms sighed. “It's going to be a bitch flushing them out, but once they are dealt with, we can start restoring some order around here.”

Cole's lips peeled away in a snarl. “I'll deal with them”, he hissed. Low, hatefully, his anger having completely swallowed up the pain over losing Trish.

Harms sighed again. “You're not the only one in this fight, Cole.”

“Maybe not”, the courier replied, “But that doesn't change what happened.” He _needed_ this outlet, he _had_ to kill these fucks. Why couldn't Harms understand?

“Nothing will change what happened”, the warden muttered. “No matter how hard you fight, she will still be gone.”

“I know!” Cole barked, “But you didn't see what they did to her!” Nobody did. Nobody understood. Not even Alex.

“No, I didn't”, Harms agreed. His hand was still on Cole's shoulder, squeezing firmly. But it was warm. Much more pleasant than the white-hot flames in his stomach. “But I know what it is like to have someone stolen from you. And I know what grief can do to a man.” He shook his head. “You are a good guy, Cole. Don't let your grief or anger take away who you really are. Don't go down that road that seems easiest for you. Because once you do, there's no turning back.”

Cole exhaled slowly, trying to get his murderous urges under control. Harms was right- if he started killing indiscriminately, then he wasn't any better than Alden, or Moya.

“I understand”, he admitted, “I do...but the First Sons _deserve_ it.”

Harms nodded and finally stepped back. “Yeah. They're real pains in the ass. Make sure you get the last of 'em. But you have to got  _stop_ killing once they're gone- or give up, you understand?” He smiled a bit. “Until now it's self-defense, but I don't want to book you for murder. Because I'm not sure how to keep you under control.”

Cole actually smiled a bit. “Yeah.”

“At any rate”, Harms continued, “I'm glad you don't kill those Marines. We want them gone, not dead. Surprising Mercer's holding back too.”

“He told me it hurts these bastards a _lot_ more when they have to take care of injured men, but it is at odds with what he _likes_ to do. And...he kinda lives for hurting people.”

“Figured that much”, Harms snorted. “Ah, but things would look a lot more grim if we hadn't his help.” He paused, brows drawn together. “Did you knew he threw a helicopter at another helicopter? Snatched it right out of the air, then chucked it over.”

“And I got all pilots out after that”, Alex's cold voice grit out. “I wouldn't have to, but I did.”

“Which I'm really grateful for”, Harms commented, hiding his surprise about the man sneaking up on them so easily. Cole had noticed him a bit earlier, but his constant anger had made it hard to get a grasp.

The viral supermutant stood across from them, glancing at Trish's grave with an unreadable expression. Then, his lips peeled away in a snarl. “We're going to get these fuckers”, he growled. “All of them.” His blue eyes had narrowed as he turned his attention to Harms. “How far are the preparations for Pier 12?”

“Almost done. As soon I'm over there, we try to draw these bastards out.”

Alex nodded slowly, then turned to Cole. “There's a scouting unit nearby. They might have important information. Want to warm up before the show starts?”

Cole clenched his fists and lightning snapped out of his skin. “Hell yeah.”

* * *

 

The scouting unit was carefully moving through the alleyways just three blocks from the harbor. Four First Sons, no conduit among them.

They were nervous, their gas masks swung from side to side as they tried to find eventual threats. But- they didn't look  _up_ . Alex never understood how they could be that oblivious when their two main predators always came swooping down from the roof tops.

Cole grunted once, barely audible- and swung himself over the edge. Lightning gathered around him, crackling loudly along the empty alleyway- and giving the First Sons just enough warning for them to look up. Alex heard them yell in alarm, moments before Cole impacted into the floor, the force of his blow caused the lightning to spread everywhere and send the First Sons flying. Alex waited just long enough for the static crackle to die down before he lunged off the roof as well. The First Sons were dead or dying, but still fresh enough for him to consume. He made short work of them, while Cole pulled away and answered his phone. “Yeah?”

“ _Cole, we're closing in on the pier, but those bastards are putting up a Hell of a fight. We could need you over here.”_

“On our way.” The courier glanced at Alex. “Still hungry?”

“Not necessarily, but I'm always open to some more violence”, the Runner replied with a grin.

“Good” Both men scrambled up the wall to head across the roofs to the Pier 12. Alex easily picked up his speed and left Cole behind, to reach the docks before any of Harms' men swallowed too much lead. The First Sons were no joking matter, after all, they were trained and Hell-bent on taking down as many cops as somehow possible.

He had heard the shooting as soon they left that alleyway, and it made his insides squirm in excitement. This was just like Manhattan, and despite the stress back there, Alex missed it. It had been simpler times, with the enemy in plain sight.

He easily spied several First Sons driving the militia- made up of cops, security guards and civilians like Dunbar- back. Their automatic rifles were far above the simple handguns. Alex sped up and went in front of a couple of cops, crushing an approaching Son into a bloody stain while flicking up his shield to swallow up the bullets. At the same time, his free arm shifted into his Whipfist, which he instantly lashed to the front to cut through these bastards within the blink of an eye. The shooting ended abruptly when the Son's bodies hit the floor in pieces.

The sharp smell of an igniting rocket took his attention for a moment, and he watched with interest how a RPG missile raced towards the warden. But there was no reason to interfere. Cole was there, and his shockwave slammed into the projectile, sending it back to the guy who shot it, blowing him and his guys to smithereens.

With their formation now broken, Alex and Cole easily took out the rest of them. Alex's claws tore through the men's armors like it was wet paper, Cole's lightning bolts burnt away skin and tissue. The courier flipped a car over with his shockwave, crushing more of the guys, while Alex easily took down three heavily armed guys with a single slam into the floor.

As the heavy smell of ozone settled, all that remained was the stench of blood and gun powder. Cole stood there, arms still crawling with electricity, as he surveyed the area. Harms exhaled and barked orders at his men. “Go make sure these clowns are really finished!” He ordered, “I don't want any stragglers taking pot-shots at me.”

Cole glanced at him, purposely avoiding Dunbar's eyes. “You guys alright?”

Harms nodded. “Yeah, we're fine.”

The courier grunted, and turned to Alex. “What about Moya?”

“They avoid sending in people during the night”, the Runner explained easily. “For today, they stopped their attacks.”

“Good.” The younger nodded. “Can you barricade off the Stampton Bridge? Make sure they will have some troubles getting in here, at least?”

Alex inclined his head. “I can”, he admitted. “Wouldn't take much more than create a blockade.”

“Do it. I don't want any of those fucks around here.”

Alex lowered his hooded head slightly and stepped back, but paused when he noticed Dunbar approach. He had seen him a few times now- and he was surprised to witness the fat man actually  _fight_ along Harms and the militia. And not only fight- he also took great pains to repair their vehicles and equipment. He remembered their conversation from three days back, and figured out that he really felt sorry for what he had done and tried to make amends for it.

Cole, however, was still angry. He glared at Dunbar, expression twisting into a scowl, as he shook off Dunbar's hand from his shoulder and stepped away, not even looking into his direction.

“I'm going to search the area and make sure we got the last of them”, he growled, marching off. Alex watched him go, but at the same time, he listened to Harms and Dunbar.

“He doesn't like you much, does he?” The older man asked under his breath.

Dunbar let his head hang sadly. “No. Not anymore, anyhow.”

* * *

 

It was later that night. Cole sat on a crate in front of a makeshift fire, balancing a tin plate with beans on his knees and glared angrily at Zeke, who was stirring a pot with more beans. Then he shifted his glare and turned his attention at Dana, who had all but dragged him here. The young woman held his glance without flinching.

“ _You are going to get out of there”, she had told him. “And you will talk to Zeke, for God's sake.”_

“ _I won't!”, Cole had snapped. He even had the lightning out, but Dana didn't back down. Instead she had stemmed her hands into her hips and made herself as tall as possible (she was still nearly a head shorter than him), but she glared at him with such intensity, that Cole actually felt intimidated. “Yes, you will”, she had repeated, “Because I'm sick as fuck with you acting like a fucking knucklehead. You are worse than Alex- so go out there and just listen what he has to say.”_

“ _And if I won't?”_

“ _If not, I will fucking water-board you, you heard me?!”_

Cole had given in and went to the front of the Eagle Point Penitentiary. Zeke and Harms had been surprised to see him (and Dana) approach, since he usually made no habit of sticking around after finishing his work.

But he guessed Dana's expression told them everything, and Harms had to check up on his men, leaving Cole and Zeke alone. Dana had wordlessly taken a camping chair and steepled her fingers, watching them with the same calculating icy stare her brother had.

She wasn't part of this, but rather an observer. Cole was okay with it, because that way, his ire was not distracted. Zeke used to be his best friend, and now he wasn't sure what he was anymore. He had thrown away their friendship and ran with Kessler, ultimately causing Trish's death with it.

“You want any more of these beans?” Zeke asked.

“No”, Cole bit out harshly, hoping to God that he would get the message.

Zeke didn't, as he sat down opposite of the fire on another box. “That was some nice work today, Cole.”

“Pricks got what they deserved”, the courier growled, not feeling like making conversation.

Zeke huffed out. “Well, we couldn't have done it without you.”

Cole frowned and glared at Zeke. “Why are you here?” He asked. He really wanted to know. He'd seen Zeke alongside with Harms ever since Kessler died. But why? Zeke was a coward. He wouldn't ever risk his life.

“What do you mean?” the other asked. Either he was playing dumb, or he really was an idiot. “The rooftop's not safe, where-”

Cole cut him off roughly. “You think because you shot Kessler a couple of times that everything's forgiven?” His eyes narrowed as he watched him struggle for words.

“I told how sorry I was. I don't know what-”

Cole's teeth crunched together.  _Sorry sorry sorry_ . He was  _sick_ of this word. He lunged to his feet and threw his plate at Zeke, making him flail and drop off his box, spilling his food. “You're sorry!” The courier barked, “Kessler's sorry. Everybody is  _sorry_ ! I'm so fucking sick of it!”

His lightning was arching around him, and he did notice Dana sit up a bit straighter- but his attention was on Zeke.

“Kessler?” The other asked in confusion and slight fear. “What the Hell's he got to do with anything?”

Cole paused, eying the electricity running along his fingers.  _His_ fingers. And Kessler's. “I'm Kessler”, he muttered, dropping his hands and snuffing his lightning off. “Or rather, he's me.”

Zeke blinked. “Listen man- you all right?” He asked worried. “That doesn't make a lick of sense.”

Cole swallowed, eyes catching Dana's expression. She looked pained, but not confused. He guessed Alex told her everything. At least someone other than that man-eating viral abomination that understood. But Zeke-

Without thinking, Cole pulled the picture from his pocket and handed it over. “Look at this”, he grumbled.

Zeke blinked, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of a smiling Trish and a happy Cole. It took him a moment to put it together, but when it did, he lifted his head and stared at him. “How--how is this possible? You guys never married!”

“Kessler gave it to me right before he died”, Cole grunted, jamming his hands into his pockets. “It's his wedding photo.” He grit his teeth. “He was me- from the future. Came back in time to set up everything- the Ray Sphere, my powers, the quarantine.” He was aware how fantastic this sounded, but he didn't care. Fuck it, someone had to know. He swallowed once to keep his voice from breaking when he remembered the happier times- memories that weren't _his_. “Trish and him were married. They had two kids.” His expression darkened. “And then he killed her. He murdered his own wife.” His eyes narrowed as he watched Zeke. “And you know why?”

Cole turned and away, not wanting to see Zeke's face any longer as he continued. “Because something bad is coming. He called it the Beast, said it's going to destroy the World unless I stop it. So he decided to  _toughen_ me up, get me ready.”

“Whoa. He show you all that when he locked onto your face?”

Cole grunted. “Yes.” He forced himself to look back at Zeke for a moment, his emotions warring with each other. He didn't want to be angry at Zeke. He didn't want to forgive him, either.

“I know you're sorry”, he added. “But every time I look at you, all I see is Kessler's face. Laughing at me.” His eyes darkened. “And it makes me want to strangle the life out of you.”

“I know”, Zeke replied with a shaking voice.

Cole grunted and pulled away, not looking at him. “You're all I got left, Zeke. But by God, I hate your guts.”

* * *

 

He had broken free, had gotten out of the ruined prison he'd been in. How long had this been ago? Hours? Days? Weeks?

Kessler had locked him in here, had done unspeakable things. He could still feel the pain in his body. But now he was free. He would find Kessler, and with the Lord's Blessing, he would make him pay.

His body coiled in on itself, demanding sustenance. He couldn't remember when he'd eaten the last time- but as he freed himself from the rubble, he spied a figure down the street in an alleyway. A young woman?

_May the Lord forgive me_ . He lunged at her, heard her startled scream, and wasn't hungry any more once he left.

He glanced back, eyed the destroyed Historic. What had happened? What was going on? How long had he been gone?

He shook his head when he remembered his wife. She was going to be worried about him. He hurried away, ran through the empty streets. He wondered where everybody was, or why everything looked like this. Maybe his wife would be able to tell him?

North Beach, Neon. His house stood there, silent and dark. He had to find his wife, make sure she was okay. But...he paused when he realized he didn't have his keys anymore. He pondered for a moment, then snapped the lock and went in. He would have to repair it later.

There was no reaction. He paused again, then went to his daughter's bedroom. She wasn't there. Now fear began to spike in his chest. Where was she? Why wasn't she here?

Did they repossess the house already? But why were their things still here? Their furniture, the pictures on the walls?

He hurried to their bedroom, and threw the door open.

His body froze when he saw the shapes of his wife and his daughter. Neither was breathing.

_No...Lord no!_

He carefully approached them, staring at their unmoving bodies. They were dead...his wife and beautiful daughter...dead. A packet of sleeping pills, all empty, dropped to the ground.

He stood there, chest hurting, as he picked both of them up and hugged them close.  _You had no choice_ , he thought,  _This was the only way to protect yourself. The Lord will forgive you._

But not Kessler. Kessler had lied. He had said he was going to give the money to her. He said he was going to deliver the check personally.  _All lies, just like he lied to that woman._

But he didn't. And knowing no way out, his wife had taken her life and that of their daughter. He whimpered and held her closer.  _Shh. There's no reason to be afraid. Not anymore._

His thoughts darkened. Kessler- Kessler had murdered them. He was responsible. But he wouldn't escape.

_Through the glory of God, I see the truth. Kessler won't escape my fury!_

 

 


	31. Shock and Awe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, the show must go on, right?

** Shock and Awe **

 

Alex was watching the Neon. Watching for anything out of the ordinary. Just the night before, he noticed a sudden increase in the amount of Reapers around. The two days before that the only Reapers he'd seen were those that had been left over- but now there were entirely  _too many_ to be from the initial 'recruiting'.

And that meant that Sasha was free once more- and she was gathering up her troops again. He needed to snuff it before it could go out of control. Not that Kessler knew- he had left her after having gotten the tar for his balloons. A part of Alex wished he'd have killed her after he was done with her, but now it was up to him to stop that piece of shit again.

That was why he started checking out the underground once again, hoping that Sasha returned to her old hideout, or an approximate of it. But after spending several hours in the smelly, dark underbelly of Empire City and only finding sparse Reaper activity, Alex returned to the surface. He needed a better plan to find her- after all, Sasha's Reapers were more like infected than real soldiers. It was virtually impossible to find their leader's location through their memories- and Sasha's own smell was mostly covered up through her tar, and her old hideout smelled much stronger than she did, effectively hiding her tracks.

He didn't enjoy the idea of having that mentally unbalanced woman running around free-  _near_ Dana. He needed to stop her, as soon as possible.

“ _Alex?”_

The Runner stopped, eyes widening slightly at the sound of Dana's voice. He quickly extracted the radio from his biomass and pressed the reply button. “Dana? What is going on?”

“ _I've been keeping an eye on Moya's activities- and guess what? There's an operation currently active in the Neon.”_

“Thanks. I'll check it out.” Alex ended the call and headed up the closest building to head to where his senses picked up the beating of rotor blades. Usually, helicopters could be heard all over the city- and most of them were mostly only recon units. No sense attacking them. But this here...sounded like several choppers, actually. Military choppers. He had to check it out.

He easily reached the now-abandoned financial district of the Neon, with its towering buildings.  _Huh, wonder what Moya's looking for here._

That was when he realized that the place smelled of tar. Faintly, as if only someone added it as a fresh layer on the roof, but he recognized the scent of Sasha's previous hideout easily enough. So she hid up high- to hide from him? It was possible. Cole told him she had been aware of him before.

It would have been an interesting choice- and for conduits who could drop several stories without hurting themselves (if they managed to stick to the landing), it was also non-lethal to jump out of the building in an attempt to escape. But while Alex pondered about the ability of Sasha to actually  _escape_ should he try to hunt her down, he couldn't help but watch the three Blackhawks hovering above the building. Intrigued, he watched how several men broke into the roof exit, storming the place. He became aware of the shooting inside, and then an Apache swung down and sprayed the place with bullets. Alex ducked at the edge of the roof he was perched upon, eyes narrowing. So Moya found Sasha too...and she was trying to grab her.  _Maybe I should stop her?_

“Shit!” One of the men on the roof suddenly shouted, staring into his direction, “That's him!” Several more men whirled around, facing the Runner on the other building. “We're hot!” The leader of the platoon barked, “ZEUS is here!”

_Oh well. I did not want to go in that obviously, but it can't be helped, then._ Alex stood up and flicked his arms to the sides, shifting them into his claws. He did tell Heller he actually tried to prevent himself from killing the Marines- sometimes with less success than other times- but Moya's men weren't Marines. They were Black Ops, probably poached from Blackwatch. And he did kind of have to stop them from getting to Sasha. He jumped over, landing harshly on the roof and instantly tore the closest man to shreds.

“Get this thing!” Another man yelled, and Alex swung around, slicing his torso off his hips with a single claw strike.

“Eagle 2! Get this fuck!” The Apache rolled in mid-air and dove for him. Alex dodged to the side as the helicopter came down, spewing a volley of high density bullets. At the same time, the remaining men opened fire, bullets impacting into his body. The Runner was surprised by how much they _hurt_ , until he realized that those was specially-made ammunition- hollow points filled with a secondary ignition device that blew up upon making contact with a body. Huh. Pretty nasty when used against human targets, and even to him it was everything but pleasant.

Alex coiled his body and pounced off the building, dropping a few stories to find and yank an air conditioner from its holding. The Apache came at him, just in time for him to shift to Musclemass and launch his makeshift projectile at the vehicle. The copter exploded in a glorious ball of fire. Alex grunted and sprinted back upwards, seized one of the men and tore him in half to consume him.

By then, the remaining men finally wised up and exchanged their rifles for missile launchers, and Alex couldn't help but feel that they had been ready for him. He shifted to his Armor and Shields within the blink of an eye, ducking low to weather the barrage of RPG missiles impacting into him. However, instead of firing all at once, the men took turns, to make sure he was pinned down. Around him, the building crumbled away, and the last blast catapulted him off the building, sending him crashing into the streets below. Alex immediately pulled back his protective shell and jumped to his feet, intending to sprint back up and maul these idiots, when he noticed the Blackhawks finally pull away. Back on the roof, not a single man was left. Alex quickly headed inside the building, but found only bodies. One soldier and dozens of Reapers, but Sasha was gone.

The Runner huffed out, glancing thoughtfully after the helicopters. He  _could_ run them down, pick them out of the air and consume everybody inside...

Or he could leave Moya with the feeling of having won, only to get to her and show her just how  _little_ she was in real life. And, as long she had Sasha, she wouldn't leave the conduit alone for too long. Which meant, if Alex got Moya, then he would have no troubles locating Sasha.

Moya thought by holding her captive near herself, she would have an advantage. But she was mistaken- the advantage was on Alex's side, as he wouldn't have to search for either target.

How  _thoughtful_ of Moya.

* * *

 

The warden had called, asked him to help Zeke. Cole had headed over to the Warren, eying the dozens of people out in the streets as he went. Yesterday they had finished the First Sons, and with it, the city started to become a little safer. Now most of the adult population tried to fix what was there to fix, or they took the weapons they took off the gangs and armed themselves, ready to defend their home from the invading forces.

With him and Alex driving the main forces back and the other civilians trying to keep them away from their hideouts, Cole hoped that these idiots would finally get the message and leave them the Hell alone. Wishful thinking, but it was the thought that counted.

He spotted Zeke from afar, leaned over the open engine hood of a van and wearing a boiler suit. The wheels of the car were still sitting on the ground next to the vehicle, but obviously Zeke was being busy elsewhere. Cole furrowed his brows as he approached. He still hadn't forgiven Zeke for what he'd done, but he did recognize the effort he went through to try get his attention back. Cole felt that for this alone he did deserve at least a little respect.

“The warden said you need my help with something.”

Zeke jumped at the sound of his voice, startled out of his work. He cleared his throat quickly though and pointed to a collection of car batteries next to him. “Yeah. Got some batteries that need chargin'.” Cole arched a brow. So he was reduced to charging duty now? Cool, decreased the amounts of bullets shot at him. Zeke waved his hand towards the van he had been working on. “Once this van and a few other cars are runnin', the warden's gonna start patrols.” He shrugged. “You know, be the places you can't be.”

Cole inclined his head. This actually sounded like a real plan, and it certainly would help him kick back a little bit. He couldn't keep up with this forever. Even he needed a break once a while. “Stand back”, he mumbled, then carefully unleashed lightning to charge up the batteries. It didn't take long either, charging batteries was what he had tried as one of the first things when he got his powers. “Anything else?”

“No man, that's it. Thanks.”

Cole furrowed his brows, because that now sounded like the real deal. Zeke was being  _honest_ about this. But there was something about the situation that felt  _weird_ . Cole looked at the sky. “What I told you yesterday- do you believe it?” He asked. It wasn't very loud, and it was more to himself, but Zeke still picked it up.

“About you and Kessler?”

“Yes”

Zeke paused for a moment, then Cole heard his wrench clack against the engine block. “Of course I do”, he explained. “Why wouldn't I?”

“Because it's insane”, Cole replied. Because it can't be. Time travel- and the guy who _murdered_ Empire City was _him from the future_ , for God's sake.

Zeke, however, only shrugged. “Take a look around, man. You can shoot lightnin' from your hands, our own government wants us gone, your new best friend is an indestructible shape-shiftin' guy who hangs around pretendin' to be a dog. Sane went out of the window weeks ago!”

He was right. This was his world now. No chance of going back. No way to live normally anymore.

He never wanted things to be like that. He never wanted those powers in the first place. He never wanted to be a hero. He just wanted to live in peace, wanted to be with Zeke, bicker with Amy, and have Trish.

All of this had been taken from him, however. Taken by his own future self. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, and had succeeded in taking away every last bit on normalcy as well as breaking his own spirit. Whatever he did, wherever he went, all he felt were vague memories, memories that weren't  _his_ . Cole groaned out. “I can't keep going like this, Zeke”, he admitted with a sound that was like a mixture between a whimper and a moan. “I'm not eating. Not sleeping. Can't think straight.” It had been  _days_ since he'd last eaten, and even longer since he had a good night's rest. And every time he tried to drive away the demons in his head, he only heard the screams of agony, of people being burnt alive and of a man who just lost everything. And worse even, his memories and Kessler's started to mingle, melt into each other. Sometimes he didn't even know  _who_ he was anymore- Cole or Kessler? It drove him mad. The courier sat down abruptly, burrowing his face behind his hands. “It's like Kessler's everywhere, and I  _can't fucking_ shake him.”

“He's dead, Cole.”, Zeke replied with a worried tone, as he went over to him to put his hand on his shoulder. “It's over.”

Cole exhaled shakily. “See, that's the thing”, he mumbled, “It's never going to be over. He took away everything that made me what I am...” He glanced at Zeke, and lightning danced around his fingers. “And I don't think I can rebuild.” He finished gloomily. Because he wasn't that prick of a bike courier anymore. Now he was a freak of nature, one that battled other freaks in a desperate attempt to rescue a city he could never stand in the past. Empire was dying, slowly rotting away, and he had nothing left for himself.

“Well, if you keep thinkin' like that, it ain't no wonder”, Zeke groused. He plopped himself down next to the courier. “You see- you are alive, and more importantly- you are still _you_. Okay, so you did get some superpowers- but you didn't go on a killin' spree, and you didn't start wearing capes and picked cats from trees. You are still Cole, still that dude that dropped college to punch his control freak of a dad in the dick.” He tilted his head. “And you ain't no hero, or God or whatever these guys out there worship you as. You are Cole. And you are the guy who didn't take this shit lying down. You got up and _fought_ back. You kicked everybody's ass.” He scoffed. “You took these guys on, even when everyone was against you- and you came out on top. You ain't a coward. Not like me.”

Cole blinked, glancing at Zeke, as he continued. “You see, I thought I'd get some powers to kick Kessler's ass, to help you defeat him. Instead Kessler booted me into a room with jus' a bed, a TV and a piss bucket. No chance gettin' out.” He frowned. “The first night, Kessler came stumblin' in, drunk off his ass. He jus' sat on the floor and stared at me. It looked like he was gonna say something a couple 'o times, but never did. Then he jus' left again after an hour.”

He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “And then the day he went to fight you, he came in and stared at me for a moment, before he told me what a good friend I've been. I figured he was nuts, 'cause he left the door unlocked so I got out.” He held out his palms and shrugged helplessly. “I didn' know what was goin' on. Didn' think it was somethin' like that, though.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Cole wanted to know.

“Hell if I know. But Kessler was jus' a guy. Who cares where he came from? He ain't you, Cole. Even if he had been, he ain't it anymore. You and him, you are different. And he has no control over you. You are your own man, Cole. Always will be.”

Cole furrowed his brows. Maybe, maybe Zeke was right. Kessler used to be him, but that changed when he betrayed everything he ever believed in. Kessler wasn't  _him_ anymore, was he? But maybe they weren't the same guy, but in the end, it didn't really matter. 

The wind changed, and suddenly he heard a deep growl on the air. Out of instinct, his head whipped up and his eyes narrowed.

_VRRRRRRRTTTMMM_

“You hear that?” Zeke asked when the noise began to become noticeable even to normal humans.

“Yeah”, Cole muttered. He twisted his neck around, hoping to find what was making that noise, when something caught his eyes. Something slim, cylindrical...and metallic, racing through the sky. Cole's heart stopped for a moment, and then he was already moving again. He lunged to the side and tackled Zeke. Zeke gasped once when he collided with him, then all breath was knocked out of his lungs when they hit the floor. A second later, a building just to the west of the Eagle Point Penitentiary exploded in a giant ball of fire. The roar of the blast deafened the two of them for a moment, and Cole swore profoundly under his breath, even as he pressed himself even lower on Zeke to take whatever was going to hit them. After all, Zeke was _not_ the near indestructible one. He waited for another moment, then slowly pushed himself upright. “Damn”, he panted at the sight of a massive wall of fire consuming what was left of the block that just blew up. “What the Hell was that?”

“Ears are ringin'”, Zeke whimpered. Cole's too, but his powers quickly put him back together, so he could hear the roar of engines above.

His blood turned to ice as he saw at least a dozen giant military aircrafts race across the sky, dropping hundreds of soldiers on white parachutes.

Cole hissed. “You've gotta be kidding me”

Zeke gasped, “Looks like Moya was serious about invading the city.”

The courier scowled deep, then he whipped around to glare at Zeke. “Quick! Get to the warden! We don't have much time!”

“What about you, brother?”

“Don't worry about me”, Cole grit out. “Hurry!”

Zeke raced off, and the conduit tapped his phone. “Alex, you there?” It was a good thing the other had a new phone- one of those military-issue things he probably peeled off a soldier's corpse. It was wrong, but Cole didn't feel any compassion towards these bastards.

“ _I am”_ , was the growling reply.

“You seeing that?”

“ _Hard not to”_ , the other man answered. _“Fuck, they came from the sea, and downwind. Didn't hear them until they were literally right above my head.”_

“I get it.” Cole dug his fingers through his short stubble along his scalp. “Anything you can do?”

“ _Asides from wide-ranged slaughter? Hell no. 'Cause these fucks are everywhere now.”_ There was a short pause, then a low growl. _“Guess Moya's smarter than I thought. Send in people everywhere, make sure to overrun us with sheer mass.”_

“Shit”, Cole groaned. “Change of plan then- you head back to the Hospital and the tunnels, hold them off there. I'll get the warden and we'll figure something out.”

“ _On it.”_

* * *

 

Alex was swearing under his breath as he catapulted his body across the rooftops, the tell-tale cracking of the ground beneath barely audible over the howling of the aircrafts above. It were entirely  _too_ many places where the men invaded-  _all over_ the city. If he finished with one group and headed over, the area he'd just cleared would be filled again. And this time, he couldn't exactly hold back either- he had to murder them all to make sure nothing would happen to those he was trying to protect. Screw keeping them alive- they declared war on them, and with it, his promise to Heller went right out of the window. But Cole was right- he needed to make sure that Dana remained secure- along with all of Empire's civilian population, in fact.

He rushed along the North Beach, when he slowed down, brows furrowed in contemplation. Something was  _off_ here. He could sense the danger, even though he was  _all alone_ at the moment.

And that was what made him feel so uneasy. Moya's men were all over Empire, so why wasn't anyone around here?

Alex paused when he noticed guns scattered in front of a building. It was a simple two-story thing with an attic and a porch. He glanced at the address, feeling a vague déjà vu sneak up on him, but easily shook out of it.

He found the parachutes of at least six men... and half-dried splatters of blood. Puzzled, he turned on his heel and moved towards the building, eying the scuff marks on the ground. He instantly recognized the shape of hands that had been dragged along, tearing groves into the soil. Whoever had been here had been forcefully dragged into the building. Not the work of Reapers, or Dustmen, or the militia. Something...else.

Alex eased the door open and scanned the inside with his thermic vision. Nothing. At least, nothing alive. Six dead soldiers were on the floor.

The Runner turned one over, staring with a frown at the expression twisted into an terrified visage. Whatever killed that guy, it was horrid.  _Huh. Not my work, though. Hadn't been here for at least a day,_ Alex thought with a snort as he ran his hand over the body. It was still warm, but something was cleanly off with the corpse. Still warm meant that there should be at least some living cells inside- but this man had suffered total cellular death. One that had ravaged through his body and instantly shut down everything.

Alex's brows furrowed- it did remind him of Cole's drain attack. He had seen it a few times, and had found out that the act of draining his victims of their Bioelectrical energies caused a total cellular death in an instant. Just like with those guys. Trouble was, the house didn't smell of Cole, and the courier only did  _that_ when he was lacking in energy himself and was surrounded by viable targets.

His head whipped up and he quickly ran up the stairs, an idea half-formed in his mind. He was certain he  _knew_ what had been going on, though he needed more proof.

He found his way into the master bedroom, pausing at the sight of two more bodies. A woman and a girl, their facial features and scents similar enough to recognize the relationship. Mother and daughter, both laid on the bed on their backs, with their hands crossed over their stomachs. There were candles burning on either nightstand, and petals spread out evenly.

_Somebody_ had been here, had killed those men and put the two dead females here almost carefully. But the smell of decay was strong here, so these two had been dead for quite a while now. Alex's head snapped around and he walked back downstairs, then headed into the living room, where family portraits were. He found one that depicted the dead woman and the girl- and a dark-haired man.

_Moya, I'd like you to meet David. Until a couple of weeks ago, he was working as a security guard at this facility._

Alex scowled, and his hands clenched at his sides. David Warner. It was the only explanation. This was why the address had been so familiar, this was why he had an idea of what happened to the soldiers. After all, he had Kessler's memories of what he did to the man. He had been exposed to the Ray Sphere so often, his body had mutated beyond recognition. Unable to ingest food, Warner was now depending on Neuroelectricity. Kessler used to feed him homeless and beggars- but after locking him away, he no longer took care of him. Alex had assumed that the collapsing building had killed the weakened conduit for good- and he hadn't found anything living inside the rubble, but apparently he survived. It seemed the tank he had been locked in had slowed down his metabolism to a near-halt, rendering invisible to his senses. But then he'd woken up, and he freed himself. Then he had returned to his home, found his wife and daughter dead - and killed the men that tried to invade his property?

_Where is he now?_

The Runner whirled around, eyes flashing to find another warm body he might have not seen on the first glance, but there was nobody. He then inhaled the air, trying to find the conduit's scent, but asides from the smells of the dead, there was nothing. It made no sense, because Warner had been here, so the place should reek of him. It didn't.

And this was a whole new problem to be concerned about. It was entirely possible the heavy mutation the man suffered from resulted in his body odor to be eradicated, allowing him to go wherever he wanted and Alex would not be able to follow his track.

He did not like this.

Alex stormed out of the building and rang up Cole. It took the courier too long to answer, and when he did, Alex heard the roar of thunder, screaming men and shooting.  _“What? I'm kind of busy!”_

“I have bad news”, the Runner replied, catapulting himself off the ground to get over to where he saw lightning flash. “I have reason to assume that there is a highly dangerous conduit running around the city. Name's David Warner.”

“ _Another one?”_ Alex heard the crack of a thunderbolt, and the wheeze of a Blackhawk's engine through the radio. _“Fuck, what is going on?”_

“He was Kessler's guinea pig”, Alex replied, “And the exposure turned him into a creature that has to feed on Neural energies to survive. Just a warning- he might be a lot stronger than you are.”

“ _Thanks for the heads-up.”_

“I'm coming over.”

“ _Check up on the hospital- I got everything under control here.”_

Alex stopped for a moment, then changed his trajectory via an Air Dash. “Okay”, he acknowledged, “But be careful.”

“ _I will”_ He cut the connection.

* * *

 

Cole leapt up and collided into an helicopter, scowl on his face as he attached himself to its snout via electro magnetism. “Don't take this personally”, he mumbled at the pilots before he unleashed a strong lightning bolt to fry its engines and send it careening to the Warren's streets. He hopped off as it dropped and descended into a group of soldiers that were trying to pin Harms, Zeke and the others.

Lightning discharged everywhere, downing the men around. He didn't care to leave them alive- not anymore. After all, they were trying to kill him and his friends, so all he did was to defend them. He threw his arm out and created a massive lightning bolt that jumped from man to man. He became aware of Harms' men opening fire, hitting and downing the guys that came from his back, and he was deeply grateful for it. He saw several men coming from the side, and he dove behind a parked car to catapult it with his shockwave into them to crush them.

“Cole!” He whipped around, noticing the attack helicopter racing towards him just in time. He threw up his shield to protect himself from the bullets, but the force of the blows still pushed him backwards by several feet. He ground his teeth together and threw his arms up as soon there was a break in the shooting, summoning a single, giant thunderbolt to utterly destroy the chopper. _This has gone on long enough._ Without pause, he whirled back to face the other soldiers, and the sky darkened. Several bolts rained down, deafening everyone around with the loud thunderclap as they hit the floor and eviscerated whatever came in their way. Men and equipment were turned to charcoal, the ground was torn open.

When everything settled, all that remained was the overwhelming scent of ozone. Cole slowly lowered his arms and exhaled to get his breath back.

“I'm glad he's on our side”, Harms remarked as he slowly rose from the crouch.

Zeke huffed out. “Yeah, it's pretty awesome.”

Cole scoffed, glaring at the sky. “Moya's going to send even more troops”, he growled. “That was just the start of it.”

Harms nodded. “That's a safe bet.” He gestured to his men and the prison complex. “Look, we need to figure out what's going on. We'd better head inside.”

The small group went back into the fortified station, Cole furrowing his brows. “Alex called”, he mentioned. “He said that there's another conduit on the run.”

“Which one? Sasha?” Zeke asked.

The courier shook his head. “Said his name was David Warner.”

“Warner?” Harms furrowed his brows. “Wait a moment...” He went over to the computer and tapped a few keys. “Ah. Warner, David...His wife filed a missing person case on him.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Said her husband went to work one day and never returned. Ah...” The warden lifted his head, locking gazes with Cole. “She said his boss, Kessler, was lying to her. He claimed her husband had run off, but she said he wouldn't do that.”

“Fuck”, Cole ground out. “But it fits with what Alex told me. He said Kessler experimented on Warner. Said the Ray Sphere turned him into... _something_ that fed on Neuroelectricity.” Another life destroyed by Kessler. Was this ever going to end?

“Ah crap. What do you suggest?”

“Make sure nobody's out there alone”, Cole declared, “And if something seems off, call me immediately.”

“Cole”, Harms cut in in a worried tone. “You can't do this. Listen- you can't just try to do _everything_ , you can't go on like that.”

“I have to”, the courier growled, “Because I am responsible for this.” Because he _is_ Kessler. But Harms didn't know. Nobody _could_ know.

The warden sighed. “I can't stop you”, he admitted, “But I really don't like watching you destroy yourself on this.”

“Yeah man, when was the last time you relaxed?” Zeke demanded to know.

Cole scoffed. “I can't take a break. Not when there's still so much left to do.”

“But you aren't alone on this. Let us do something for you.” Harms hummed for a moment. “We'll try to hold those soldiers off. You take care of this conduit.”

“Can you do it?” The courier asked worried.

“Well, it's going to be a bit tougher, but we ain't no rookies. And these bastards are trying to take our home away from us, we sure as Hell are going to try our damned best to keep them out.”

Cole furrowed his brows, but seeing the determination of the man made the decision easier. “If you really are ready to do this, who am I to stop you?” He huffed out. “Just let me help you build up some barricades, so you don't get overrun that fast.”

* * *

 

The first wave of the attack was over. Buildings were burning and there were soldiers now crawling through the streets. None had gotten near the police station or the prison complex until now, and someone who came by from the hospital told them of soldier bodies piling up in the streets. Since then, they stayed away from the Warren.

But the Neon and the Historic weren't that lucky.

Cole grit his teeth as he carefully lowered a barrier of trash metal, scavenged from the Tent City, on the ground. He couldn't flip out, there was still some sort of mutated conduit running around. But he had no idea where that guy was, so all he could do was wait until he showed himself. He lifted his head, glaring at one of the drones patrolling the city. One of Moya's? At any rate, it was too high up and he had better things to fry than them.

His phone rang. He inclined his head and took the call.

“ _Hello Cole.”_

He froze. “Moya?!” He bit out, brows drawn together, “What the Hell?”

“ _How about a 'nice to hear you'?”_

Cole frowned. “If you've come to gloat, you're a tad premature.”

“ _I don't believe in gloating. The loser always knows when he's beaten.”_ Really? Because the way things looked, Moya just didn't know when to give up.

“ _I'm sure you have figured out by now that things aren't very rosy. Well, I have a proposition for you”_ , the woman commented dryly. _“You'll come in and we can put all of this behind us. You refuse and things are going to get interesting.”_

“What the fuck do you take me for?” Cole snapped. “A braindead idiot like Bridges? Just try it, I can handle everything you throw at me.”

“ _I saw what you did”_ , Moya commented, _“Very impressive. But their primary mission was to lock down the city, not capture you. I just wanted to see how serious you were.”_

Fuck this, did she really sacrifice a few dozen people just to see how he would react? This woman was  _sick_ in the head.

The courier peeled his lips away in a snarl. “If you are so serious, why don't you come over here and we settle this once and for all?”

“ _You really need to drop that Macho Bullshit”_ , Moya replied. _“I know your pet monster isn't too far away and really has it out for me. But guess what? I am not as stupid as the rest of them. I'll stay right here and watch my guys screw you up.”_

Guys? What guys did she mean? Cole furrowed his brows and was about to ask when Moya continued.  _“Sleep on it, Cole. You have until tomorrow morning. Then the gloves come off.”_ She ended the call. Cole was left staring at his phone with a puzzled expression. What did she mean with this?

Did she really bomb the city, did she really kill all those people, just to get  _him_ ?! Gods, that woman was seriously fucked up. She needed to be knocked down all the pegs. Maybe he should really let Alex do this, but then he thought of the tentacles and the screaming, and his decision wavered.

He shook his head and headed back inside, where Harms was talking to somebody via radio. Mobile phones were still down, as was the internet, but military and police frequencies were still working. And unless Moya wanted her men stumble around with no way to contact each other, they would keep on working either way.

“Harms, you got a moment?”

The warden glanced at him and nodded, pointing at a bench across from him while he finished his call. Cole felt it took hours to end, but in reality, it wasn't much more than a few minutes. Damn, his nerves were frayed, and lightning bounced along his limbs. Harms noticed it (it was hard not to, with the sparks and everything) and finally put down his phone, frowning at the younger man the entire time.

“What's the problem?”

Cole exhaled once. “Moya called”, he told him. At the moment, Harms was the only person around Cole trusted. Zeke used to be his friend, but right now...Harms however was a good man, and the conduit could talk to him about this. Plus he knew about Moya, and unlike other people Cole trusted, he didn't get all weird and started to count down the endless possibilities to kill her every time her name was mentioned.

Still, the correction officer's eyes narrowed and his shoulders became a little more tense. “What did she say?”

“She wanted me to give up and let myself be taken in. She said then the attacks'll stop.” He scoffed once, masking a short laughter. “She's lying, of course. If I go, then people are going to die.”

Harms nodded gloomily. “You got that right, kid”, he grumbled. “If that woman gets her claws in you, she won't let go. And once you're out of the city, who's gonna keep those idiots in line?”

“The First Sons. The Dustmen, right?” Cole wondered.

“Yeah. They aren't gone, just lying low, you know.” Harms huffed out. “Without you to open a can of ass-whipping on them, they're going to come back.”

“I know”, Cole slumped his shoulders, “But if I don't go, then Moya's going to bomb the city back to the stone age.”

“And if you go, then this place will turn into the _Lord of Flies_.” Harms furrowed his brows. “We have to make sure everything's in order. But those soldiers are making it harder than it has to be.” He sighed. “You being here gives Empire- or what's left of her anyways- a chance. You are the one the people look up to, you know? You are their role model.”

Cole arched his eyebrow. “What? And we'll stay here happily ever after and keep on living like this?” That's bullshit, because the city was falling apart. No food, no medical supplies, no help- the only way they did manage to stay afloat that long was because he zapped Moya's men wherever he saw them, and Alex carved a bloody swathe into their ranks, then they robbed any of their storages they came upon. Which wasn't very much, by the way.

“We just need to hold out a little while longer”, Harms muttered, though to Cole's ears, it sounded like he was trying to justify himself. “They're on USTV every day”, he mentioned, and the courier frowned. Even without the main HUB, the television was still working. The USTV news kept spreading lies (mostly because they were too cowardly to set a foot into the city and took whatever Bridges told them for granted), and the TV jacker kept riling the people up- any more of this and they'll have a full-blown riot at their hands. One small stroke of luck was that he stopped blaming Cole for the Blast. But it wasn't enough.

“They're talking about how great things are”, Harms continued. Cole frowned deeper, remembering the utter loathing he felt every time he heard the USTV jingle from one of the many screens in the city. “Plenty of food and all that. It's a good cover story.” The warden lifted his hand. “But eventually someone's going to ask, if things are so great, why are they bombing the city? Why all the troops?” His expression turned grim. “Their window is shrinking, and they know it. My guess is that if we managed to keep them at a stalemate, in a week it'll be over.”

Maybe. Or maybe not. Cole hadn't watched much TV in the past days, but even he was aware that USTV painted him as the terrorist responsible for all of this. If all went according to what Harms thought, then within a week somebody was going to have noticed what went on and forced someone who had an inkling of what they were doing to take care of this- but if it went in the way Cole thought, then things were going to escalate further, until he had to murder his way to those responsible (worked with the Dustmen and First Sons) to shut everybody up.

Maybe this was the only way to protect the city. But then again- he was a single man. Fine, so he did have the Government's collective monster under their bed as his friend and ally, but what good would it do for him if they came with nukes and missiles? He didn't want to watch his friends die. He had enough of that for a lifetime. He had a lifetime's worth of loss, actually. He wasn't going to subject the people of Empire to the same fate.

Suddenly, the room was dyed in red light and a siren blared overhead. Cole whipped around, eyes wide. “What's that?!”

“The alarm”, Harms noticed, “Something's happening out in the yard!”

_Shit_

Cole leapt over the bench and dashed outside. Zeke was still there! Zeke was still out there! He raced out of the maze of prison and headed for the exit. From afar he could already hear the shooting and the screams. He could taste the panic in the air, and when he threw the door open, the stench of blood hit his nose.

His feet stopped, and his eyes widened. In the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by torn-apart cops, was the Beast.

 


	32. Men like Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the first part of the final confrontation, so please, put your seats into an upright position, buckle up and enjoy the show.

** Men like Gods **

 

The Beast. The Beast that killed Kessler's family. The Beast that killed the World- It was here. In plain sight, just in the middle of the prison courtyard. It had come for him.

Cole was frozen in terror.  _It was here- it was already here?!_

For a second, his eyes slid to the six dead men at its feet- good men, who had been torn apart. Heads had been separated from torsos, limbs ripped out of their sockets, bodies shredded. The Beast didn't even seem to notice the bullets the remaining cops shot at it.

The Beast- the Beast that made Kessler into what he had faced here in Empire- so soon?!

Something was  _off_ with the thing though...

Cole gasped in realization. It was  _not the Beast._ _**Not** _ _the Beast._

His terror subsided slightly. Not the Beast. It wasn't the thing that killed Kessler's world. He still had time. Time he needed to prepare himself. That thing there- it was similar, but smaller- _way_ _smaller_ than the thing Kessler'd seen.

While it  _was_ human in shape, it wasn't the burning titan that eradicated entire cities with a single wave of its hands. This one was heavily muscled, with a pitch-black skin stretched across its shape like a tight body suit. Its face was ghostly hollow, with the same black skin pulled across its empty eye sockets and gaping mouth.

It also had four arms, or tentacles. And one of them...wrapped around Zeke's throat! Magenta colored lightning was running along their bodies, and Zeke's struggling grew weaker each passing second.

Cole's fear was instantly replaced for fiery rage, and he was moving before his brain caught up with him. “Hang on Zeke! I've got you!” One of his static blades came into existence and Cole swung it with all force into the thing's face. “C'mon ugly!”, the courier roared, “Let's get this over with!”

The thing's head snapped to the side, and it dropped Zeke, but other than that, it wasn't even scratched. Instead, Cole had a brief moment to watch the skin around its eye sockets to start glowing- and then his world was drowned out in the white-hot flare of pain when this magenta energy slammed through his body.

Cole hit the ground hard, several yards away from where he had attacked the thing and out of the courtyard, and rolled over to his hands and knees, gasping in pain.  _Holy Shit._ He became vaguely aware of the roar of helicopters and the shouting of more men, but he couldn't pay any attention. His body felt like it was on fire, and his movement was slow and sluggish.

The thing's tentacles seized his body and crunched down before he had a chance to react. Cole hissed when he felt several of his ribs snapping under the force, but instantly charged up his own body to unleash lightning, hoping to fry that thing somehow.

Instead of getting fried, the thing easily withstood the attack. It made a weird rumbling sound in its chest that sounded like growling (and probably would have been growling if its mouth wasn't covered with skin), and the tentacles tightened. Cole heard heavy machine gun fire, and had a split second to witness a tentacle rise over the thing's shoulder and straighten out to form a spear. The courier barely managed to twist his head away to avoid being skewered, but his neck creaked in protest, and the strike still connected. He was pretty sure from the pain exploding across his face that his nose just broke.

_Ow_ .

Then the thing suddenly dropped him, and he hit the ground again, groaning in pain. Hot air rushed over him, and through bleary eyes he saw several of Moya's soldiers shooting with large rifles and missile launchers at the thing. He grunted and wrenched his nose back into place, willing it to heal back up, when he realized that this thing was still there- though its attention was not on him. Instead, it whirled around and lunged at the men.

Cole just stared, eyes widening. It looked pretty similar to Mercer's style of total eviscerating, only this thing had additional lightning powers. And it utterly annihilated every last of the men.

_Oh my God..._

Away. He needed to get it away. He had to get this thing away from Harms. From Zeke. From the others. His body wasn't really obeying, but he forced it to move. With a pained grunt, he pulled himself up on a power pole. He grabbed the cables on top and dragged his body upwards. He had to make sure this thing would let his friends alone. “Hey dumbass!!” He fired a lightning bolt at the thing, and it whipped around, hollow face twisted in anger. He didn't wait for it to make its first move, and raced off, shooting across the wires to the Neon, to get away as fast as somehow possible. His neck bristled and he could almost  _feel_ that thing chase after him. Fuck. He hoped he was fast enough.

He leapt off the wires and raced across a roof, hearing the water behind him explode as the thing lunged out of it. Cole swore and sped up, trying to get some distance between them. He leapt across an alleyway and nearly reached the other side when the thing suddenly snatched him, its sopping wet tentacle arm wrapping around his throat and cutting off air and blood flow. Cole grunted once and tried to free himself when he felt the muscles coil beneath the thing's skin. That was all warning he got as he found himself flung through the air, only to hit a building with so much force he felt several bones break under the force as he crashed through the solid stone wall. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, because everything hurt.

“ _Cole! Cole!”_ Moya's voice screeched in his ear, _“Are you there?!”_

“Now's not the time”, the courier groaned, struggling to stand. He didn't tap the reply button, didn't have the strength to do so. _“Listen to me”_ , Moya implored, _“If you can hear this get out of the building now!”_

Cole groaned and tried to drag himself to the opening he broke through, his bones creaking in protest.  _“There's not much time!”_ Moya warned him _“Get the Hell out of there!”_

His head snapped up when he heard the bursting of brick and mortar, seconds before the thing broke through the roof. At the same time, he saw a missile race towards the building.

“This just isn't my day.”

The thing pounced at him. Cole swore and flung his body to the side, barely avoiding it. He rolled over his shoulder, his skin snagging on some loose rubble, but he just managed to leap out of the building when the missile hit, exploding in a violent blast that threw Cole through the air. He hit the street once more in a heap of grinding bones and breaking skin. The world around him faded away.

* * *

 

Something was curling across his skin, wrapping around his limbs and pulling. Funny...it almost felt like... _tentacles_ .

Cole's heart made a startled leap in his chest. The conduit gasped in horror and lunged around, electrical blade back at his wrist as he slashed at whatever was grabbing him. It released him with a disgruntled growl, while his heart was hammering in his chest, but he could barely see and his brain was doing backflips on the inside of his skull.

“Cole. Calm down.” That voice, low and grating, but also filled with what seemed to be worry. The courier was still in a crouched stance, but his vision was slowly clearing. He recognized Alex's shape, and his pulse slowed.

“Shit. It's just you”, he groaned, dropping out of his battle stance. His body felt like it was still on fire though, and with a small grunt, he listed to the side.

“Fuck”, Alex was there, grabbing a hold of him. “What happened?”

“Why are you here?” Cole wanted to know, “I told you to stay with Dana and the others.”

“Zeke called”, Alex explained, “And from the way he was screeching into my ear, I figured something went on. I followed your scent here.”

Cole nodded and glanced at the Warren. “Did you see what was over there?”

“The bodies. Yes.”

“Mhm” Cole grunted and started to head back to the penitentiary. Alex easily fell in step besides him, holding a secure grip on his arm. “I was attacked”, he ground out eventually, his jaw still hurting. “By something...big.”

He felt Alex tense besides him. “Black?” He suddenly asked, “Four arms?”

Cole paused, brows drawn together. “Yes”, he admitted, “How-”

The viral mutant snarled, then started moving again. “Warner”, he growled. “That was David Warner.”

Cole blinked in confusion, words and memories slowly trickling in as they continued their way back to the prison.  _I have reason to assume that there is a highly dangerous conduit running around the city. Name's David Warner._

That thing- that creature that attacked him and murdered the men-  _this_ was David Warner?! That was a conduit?!

“How-” Cole demanded to know. “You said- Kessler-”

“Warner had the gene, just like you, Cole”, Alex explained darkly, “Kessler wanted to know what would happen if an activated conduit got exposed to the Ray Sphere again.” He scoffed. “He was surprised to find that Warner gained a _new_ power, one he could wield along the other he was given.” Cole felt the other back's lose cohesion as it bristled like a cat's fur. “And then he wondered where the limit was. He exposed him over and over _and over_ again to the Ray Sphere, creating what you just battled.”

“How often?” The younger asked. His throat was dry.

“Thirty times”, Alex told him.

Shit. So David Warner was, technically,  _thirty_ conduits in a single one. How could he even hope to beat that?! And why- why did he attack the men?

“You said he feeds on Neuroelectricity”, the courier gasped, “Didn't you?”

“Yes.” Alex furrowed his brows. “But this didn't look like he came here by chance.”

“No?”

“No” The mutant inclined his head, never breaking his hold on Cole as they moved across the bridge. “This looked more like...a direct attack. After all, he abandoned his feeding grounds as soon you left.”

“What?”

“He came here for _you_ , Cole. He tried to kill you.”

“Why? What the Hell have I done to him?”

“ _You-_ nothing”, Alex replied. “But Warner's not human anymore. He no longer hunts by sight, but by scent. He is able to follow the genetic 'fingerprint' of a person. Now you can guess why he has it for _you_.”

Cole's eyes widened when everything clicked. “Kessler!” He hissed, “Because Kessler did this to him- and-”

“You _are_ Kessler, or at the very least, you share his genetic code”, Alex finished with a nod. “Warner is hunting after _you_ , because he thinks you are Kessler.”

_Fuck._ That means that Warner would try to murder him. He would stop at nothing to do so. Cole didn't believe for a single moment that a collapsing building would stop this freak. No, he was still there, still waiting.

“Kill him”, he hissed. “Kill him dead-”

“I would love to- but I can't find him”, Alex replied darkly. “I can not smell him. I can not sense his heartbeat. To me, to Blacklight, he doesn't exist until I see him face-to-face. But he's hiding from me.”

_What? Did that mean that all they could do was try to hope that freak appeared when they had their big guns? He almost killed him just now- who knew if he got lucky the next time?_

“Cole!” His attention shifted for a moment, settling on Zeke and a police officer, who stood near a couple of covered corpses. _How many did David kill?_

Zeke and the cop came running over to them. “Shit, Cole! You all right, brother?”

The courier hissed when his bones ground against the other. “No, not really.”

The cop was squeezing his shoulder. “C'mon. We'll get someone to look at you.”

_No. Because they are all in danger_ . Cole shook his head, shifting so he could shake off Alex and the cop. “I'm not staying.” He grunted once, forcing his legs to take his weight as he took notice of their startled expressions. “That thing- it's still out there”, he ground out. “And between it and the military”, he shook his head. “It'll be safer without me around.” He grunted and turned around, slowly limping away. Alex stopped him quickly, though. “This is crazy”, he growled. “You can't just leave.”

Cole jerked his arm free. “The only reason I am alive is because Moya bombed that thing. She dropped a building on it- and it's still down there somewhere.” He glared at Alex. “I am not sure whether I can stop it. And I refuse to let anybody else suffer because I'm hiding behind you. At the moment, I am the greatest threat to you. Just look around!”

Alex glanced at him and he could almost see the gears move inside his head. Then his eyes narrowed and he suddenly stepped back. “If that is what you think- then fine. Go.” Zeke inhaled sharply, trying to say something when Alex cut him off. “You are sorely mistaken if you think I'll just let you kill yourself. However...” His eyes glinted. “I see your point- out here it is too dangerous for the others. It would be better if Warner finds you alone. And then I will kill him.” His teeth were bared. “Don't even  _think_ for a moment I'll leave you to that fucker. Him and Moya are both going down.”

Cole exhaled.  _He is using me as bait. Bait for Moya and David both. And I am playing along, even._ “I can't stop you, can I?”

“No”

“Fine, do what you want.” He sighed. “But I'm just so damn tired. I'm going back to the apartment, sleep a bit.” Cole eyed Zeke. “I'll leave my phone on in case you need something from me.”

He turned and walked off without waiting for their reply. He really hadn't much strength left- and between Moya's invasion and David's attack they have lost enough people already. He refused to let others die because of him. He was going to protect them, no matter who or what he'd have to kill.

But right now, he just wanted to sleep. Being a conduit made him a lot tougher than he had been in the past, but he was still just human. No matter how much electricity he'd drain- he couldn't keep on going forever. He needed water and food just like any other person (though admittedly, not as much as others), he had to sleep to recharge. His bones could break when enough force was applied, and even dropping from extreme heights could kill him if he went too fast and didn't manage to stick to the landing. He wondered once more whether it had been the right choice to destroy the Ray Sphere instead of trying to get more abilities out of it- he would have become stronger then.

But if he'd used the Ray Sphere, then he would have done  _exactly_ what Kessler had wanted, and that made his stomach turn. He didn't need that old bastard, he didn't need the Ray Sphere- he was strong enough on his own.

He'd sleep first, however, to sort through his thoughts, then he'd worry about what he was going to do next.

He grunted when his bones finally fixed themselves as he was heading to the building he lived in. He was on his own now, and his back bristled, even as he reached the top of the stairs and unlocked the door. The apartment looked like nothing had happened, still their normal mess, silent and innocent.

Cole dropped on the couch with a grunt, eyes catching sight of the photo album that was on the table. He swallowed and reached out for it, grasping the material and pulling it closer as he sat up and opened it. Pictures of the four of them- from better times. Trish, smiling at him with her diploma in hands. Amy, glaring at the camera with a game controller in her hands (that day, she beat Zeke's record, and kept rubbing it in at every possible moment). Zeke and him, standing on a roof in New Marais. Him wearing his jacket the first time- a present from Trish. Zeke and Amy, sitting next to each other on their ratty couch and asleep, both mouths hanging open and heads leaned against each other (they marathoned  _The Lord of the Rings_ ). And always, Trish, Trish, Trish. Trish- who was  _never_ going to talk to him again.

A sob tore itself from his throat as his tears started to run freely. Kessler was dead, and Trish and Amy were too. He couldn't save them, and he couldn't bring Trish back. Cole groped blindly through his breast pocket, pulling the small black box out of it. He snapped it open, staring at the ring he bought from his savings. He wanted to ask her to marry him.

But now she was dead.

He leaned back, sobbing once, and lightning snapped out of his body.

No matter what was going to happen- Trish would still be dead, and he would be still alive. He had no illusions that they would let him go. Moya, Warner, the state- all of them wanted a piece of him. No chance back. And he was going to fight them every inch of the way. Though what would be left for him? He would be a refuge until something did put him down, ending all of this nonsense.

But if this meant that his friends would be able to live in peace, then he was going to do it. He had enough of watching friends die. He wasn't Kessler- and he would do everything in his power to protect those dear to him.

* * *

 

First Lieutenant Andrew Harrison and his troop were inching along the grimy and graffiti-covered walls of this apartment building. Ms Jones wanted them to get in there and get that son of a bitch who was holed up in here.

Andrew ground his teeth together disgruntled. His orders were to take that freak in  _alive_ , but he was sorely tempted to simply put a bullet in that fucker's brain and be done with it. Just the day before they lost three gunships and nearly two dozen men to that guy- twenty men that had been his  _brothers in arms_ were now dead. Harrison wondered whether this was the reason this fuck was so important to Jones. He had heard rumors- all of them had. Stories about weird science including these freaks, or 'conduits' as they were called around here.

Harrison didn't give a rat's ass about that. He just wanted to take these fucks down whoever they were. This guy first, then that other guy. The one that seemed to relish in causing bloody messes. Jones didn't say much about that one, except for that they had to go through this whole dog-and-pony-show with those weird-as-fuck scanner things and that fucking red mist shower every time they came back from the city.

But Harrison could guess. Duncan, his buddy, told him that those protocols were there since Manhattan. To make sure they were themselves, not somebody else. Andrew himself hadn't been so sure about what this particular choice of words, and Duncan had clammed up pretty fast, just mentioned that there were a lot of things that needed killing.

He stopped in front of the door, holding up his hand. One of his guys carefully and quickly picked the door, easing it open just by a few inches.

“Talon Four, we're in position”, he spoke through his radio.

“ _Copy that. Execute.”_

Harrison flicked his fingers to the front, and two of his guys fired a gas grenade each. He heard a startled 'What the Hell' from the inside. “Canister deployed”, the Lieutenant declared.

“ _Copy that”_ , HQ confirmed, _“Hold for three minutes, then breach.”_

“Roger” Three minutes, clocks were ticking. Three minutes for the gas to get to work. He was seriously wondering whether it was supposed to work since bullets never seemed to faze that guy, when he heard panicking coughs and swears from the other side. Huh. Guess even freaks like him were susceptible to this stuff, huh?

He shuddered slightly. Three minutes, that was the average for this stuff to start working- Harrison had seen the tests they've done on those volunteers- they passed out quickly, hallucinating and garbling all the while.

He glanced at his watch. “Forty seconds”

There was the sound of coughing from the inside, and something fall and break.  _Ten Seconds...Five..._

He booted the door down in a cacophony of splintering wood. He and three men were inside in an instant, eyes immediately locked onto the lone figure squirming on the ground. The air smelled foul even through his gas mask, and it already caused him a headache, so breathing this stuff in for three minutes solid should have rendered this bastard unconscious. He wasn't, though apparently tripping really hard.

“Trish?” The man groaned, rolling to his side to stare at Harrison with wide eyes. The Marine frowned at him. _That_ was the guy that killed twenty of their guys in a single blow? He had expected...well, someone else, actually, but this guy didn't even _look_ dangerous. Smaller than him by an inch or two, less buff, wearing eye-bleeding _yellow_ , and curled on the floor, shaking like mad. Harrison scoffed and grabbed his arm, pulling him up roughly. Heh. Easier than picking up fallen apples.

“I tried-” That bastard whimpered, squirming as he tried to pull free. “This isn't real” He jerked back suddenly, hard enough so Harrison lost his hold on him as he stumbled to the wall, his back hitting the window. “Please” he implored.

“Get him”, Harrison ordered, stepping to the front to seize that freak, when the man's body suddenly convulsed and lightning lashed out of his skin. The Marines stopped out of instinct, rifles ready. The bastard didn't attack them, but he was seriously tripping from whatever was in that gas, whimpering and mumbling. And then Harrison saw his eyes widen, seconds before the freak whirled around and _jumped_ through the closed window, shattering the glass without a second thought as he dropped to the street level, sparking all the way down. Harrison swore and rushed after him, stopping at the window to stare down. The guy had hit the floor, was in a crouch with lightning all around him, shaking like mad. And then he remembered what Jones told them: Bullets and drops don't kill him. The Lieutenant snorted. “He's outside!” He barked “Go! Go!” His men instantly headed back, racing down the stairs. Out there was no gas, and if things went south, he would probably recover. Harrison could not have this, so he had to make sure that bastard stayed down.

“We got him!” One of the guys who reached that freak first commented.

“What about those two down the street?” Another asked. Harrison glared at two civilians who stood near an alleyway and stared at the scene. “Leave 'em”, he ordered, turning his attention back to that freak. The guy was still whimpering nonsense, but his body was curled up with violent tremors running through his limbs. The sparks were still there, but the guy himself showed no reaction towards them anymore.

“Get the extraction team here”, Harrison ordered into his radio. “Tango down.”

“ _Acknowledged”_

“Suck on this, freak”, the Lieutenant grunted, prodding the fucker with his rifle's muzzle. The guy choked and curled into himself even more, but the lightning disappeared. Fucking pathetic.

The beating of a helicopter rotor quickly drowned out every noise around them. Harrison turned to watch the Blackhawk descend towards them, dropping a container on the ground. Two of his guys dragged the freak towards it, but asides from some weakly whimpered 'So sorry', there was no longer any reaction from him.

Harrison held his breath as the chopper pulled away, but there was no violent discharge, or explosion. He allowed himself to relax slightly. “Mission over”, he declared, turning to his team. “We got that fucker.”

“Oorah!”

* * *

 

“ _You knew that ZEUS was in Empire!”_ A loud voice barked through the radio. _“You knew and you didn't bother contact us!”_

“Because I do not want this thing on a slab”, Moya replied calmly, but with a tense voice. “At least, not _now_. I don't care what you are planning to do, General Rooks, but at the moment, Empire _and_ ZEUS are under _my_ jurisdiction.”

“ _Fuck this- this isn't some game you're playing- you're dealing with the worst Runner in the history of Blackwatch!”_

“I am aware, General”, Moya scoffed. “However, _I_ managed to keep this thing under control, while you lost it not only _once_ , but _twice_ now.” She cocked her head, glancing at General Bridges before she turned back to the Blackwatch leader. “If it is any consolation, I did _not_ plan to let it run free. As soon I have what I came for, the thing is all yours.” She smiled unpleasantly, knowing fully well that her phrase 'the thing's all yours' meant in the far away future. She was _certain_ ZEUS had access to Kessler's memories- and the Ray Sphere. Something she was going to get. “In fact, I am certain the first step is currently being done.”

“ _What the fuck are you talking about?!”_

“ZEUS has an ally here, a conduit by the name of Cole MacGrath. They have...bonded. They are always working together, and in that way, they are both unbeatable. However, I have a plan to separate them. As soon I have Cole, ZEUS is going to come here in hopes of freeing its friend, right into _my_ playing field. We're going to pin it down, and I just need to make it comply. Emotions and friendship are such a strong motivation.”

“ _Moya- this is not a fucking game!”_

“You are starting to repeat yourself”, the DARPA agent commented dryly. She turned her attention to her beeper that flashed the message _MacGrath contained. En route._ She smiled. “As it is, the first step is actually done. Now, if you excuse me, General Rooks, I have more important matters to attend to. For any questions, please turn to General Bridges.”

“ _Moya- the fuck? I wasn't finished with you yet!”_

_But I am with you_ , she thought as she strode out of the command center and marched outside.

A group of her men was waiting there, along with two of her scientists and three soldiers. The Blackhawk transporting MacGrath was just lowering its load onto the flight deck of the  _Washington_ , then flew off without touching the ground. Moya made sure to never have the same people handle the work- one team to capture the conduit, one to extract him, a third to make sure he wouldn't get all zappy on them. Every team that had been outside also had to take turns with a viral scanner and a Bloodtox shower  _and_ they weren't allowed to split up until after the procedure was finished. She couldn't risk Cole's buddy run around her base.

She smiled when her scientists draped the conduit's body over a stretcher and let two of her soldiers carry him in. Two men could hold the weight no problem, and he did have the electrokinesis at his disposal. She definitely had the right guy.

From time to time, there were a few sparks across his skin, slowly crawling across his body, but other than that, he was out cold.  _Note to self: Figure out how to synthesize the gas without needing Sasha_ . Piece of shit shouldn't live any longer than absolutely  _necessary_ .

“Keep an eye on the scanners”, she ordered her men. “Anything trips them, shoot it.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Watch his head”, Doctor Schulze mentioned as they rounded a corner and dragged the courier inside her lab, then cuffed him to a special steel table and turned it into an upright position. Moya watched him flick a switch, activating a device attached to the table that was supposed to keep his troublesome powers under control. Captain Blum's men remained outside and closed the door.

Moya glanced at the conduit with a frown. Just a shame Alden was lost to them, but after that thing at the Freeway Bridge, the old coot was simply  _gone_ . Moya didn't need to be a genius to figure out what happened to him, after all, ZEUS had been on that bridge. Shame really, they could have learnt a lot from Tate's biological makeup. Oh well, they still had Sasha. As soon they'd manage to synthesize her gas, they'd be able to take her out of the equation with no great trouble. Not MacGrath, though. This one they needed  _alive_ \- for her own goals  _and_ to keep ZEUS under control.

“How's Cole?” She asked the other scientist, Whitney. The man huffed out and pressed his fingers to the conduit's neck. They probably didn't have time trying to undress him from all those layers of clothing, but that wasn't necessary. She knew how resilient these conduits were.

“Heart's palpitating”, Whitney commented. Hm, guess whatever he'd seen before the gas knocked him out drew a panic reaction from him. “Nothing too serious, here, just let me...” The man scuffled about and got an IV bag over, plugging the needle into Cole's wrist. “Just need to get the IV into his arm.”

Titanium needles, able to pierce even a conduit's thick skin. It took him a short while, but then Cole groaned, Moya smirked.  _Look who's coming around._

“He's starting to wake up”, Moya commented, “Is everything connected?”

“Yeah, we're good.” _Let's get this show on the road, then._ The conduit moaned and slowly pried his eyes open. Heavily diluted pupils locked with Moya's eyes and she saw him trying to focus. “Can you hear me, Cole?” She asked. “Hello?” He made a curious noise. Moya huffed out. “You should have just given up. It would've made things easier for us.”

His head rolled against his chest and he turned unresponsive again. She clicked her tongue when Captain Blum commented helpfully “I think he just blacked out.”

“Yes, Captain, I _am_ aware”, Moya replied. She glanced at Whitney. “Adrenaline. Please.”

“You think this is a good idea? It might wake him up, or it might kill him from the shock.”

“This bastard survived quite a lot. I doubt a little bit of extra adrenaline isn't going to harm him. But I really don't have time to dick around. The syringe, if you would.”

Whitney handed it over, and Moya sunk the needle into Cole's neck, pushing all of its contents inside. She was rewarded by a grunt and a groan, when his muscles contracted. “There we go. That should do it.”

“His vitals are stabilizing”, Schulze mentioned, removing his stethoscope from him. 

“Good” Moya stepped back and dropped the syringe into a tray. “Because the two of us need to _talk_.”

Cole moaned again, blinking slowly as if trying to get his brain to work. With a grunt, he tried to move his arms, but found them immovable. Moya noticed Blum tense slightly when Cole's fists clenched, but he relaxed just as quickly when he aborted his attempts with a snort. “You used Sasha's gas on me”, the conduit groaned, trying to work his tongue.

Moya smiled slyly. “Worked, didn't it?”

The man grunted again and shook his head once. “You should've killed me when you had the chance”, he ground out. His voice was steadier than before, and his eyes weren't as glassy anymore.  _Impressive. Got around quite fast._

“I don't want you dead, Cole”, Moya pointed out. 

The conduit scoffed. “Got a funny way of showing it.”

“Believe it or not”, she pointed out, “We need your help.”

Cole stared at her, then suddenly threw his head back, smacking the back of his skull against the metal, and laughed out. “You got some balls, I give you that” He commented with a harsh snort.

Moya rolled her eyes. “When the Government detonated the first Atomic Bomb in July of 1945, it changed the World. And now, sixty-odd years later, the World's been changed again. By you, Cole.”

The courier glanced at her with arched eyebrows. “You trying to sweet-talk me?”

“Joke all you want”, Moya replied, “It's the truth.”

Cole's brows drew together and he dropped his head. “I don't care”, he muttered, “I just want you damn people to leave me alone.” He tugged uselessly at the handcuffs. Moya rolled her eyes and pulled a chair in front of the conduit to sit on it.

“In the past two weeks, we've arrested eighteen foreign agents on charges of espionage”, she told him, noting the puzzled glint in the man's eyes. “We're tracking eight other subjects, two of which are operating out of New Marais, of all places.” _Oh yes. Agent Lucy Kuo and Doctor Sebastian Wolfe. NSA spies._ “They all want the same thing, Cole”, she continued, eyes narrowing. “You. Or someone like you.”

“I can take care of myself”, the conduit replied with a tired tone.

“Not against this you can't.”

Cole paused and glanced at her, gears starting to turn in his head. “So you're trying to protect me. Is that it?”

Moya inclined her head. “You're a national security asset. We need to know where you are and what you are doing. Anything other than that arrangement is unacceptable.”

The courier was glaring at her and tugged at the handcuffs again. “How did you get Sasha's gas?”

Moya was taken back for a split second at the sudden change of topic. Still, she masked it brilliantly. “Hooked her up to a machine, sucked it out. Didn't look too painful.”

“Got the same planned for me?” _Ah, so that was his whole agenda._

Moya shook her head. “Don't be stupid”, she chided him. “Sasha and Alden were unhinged, a threat to everyone. The world's better off without them.” Sasha was in their hold, though, and Alden was monster chow by now. Cole was the only one left. Moya pointed at him. “But you, you are a reasonable person. You'll do the right thing.”

Cole glared at her, then his expression darkened. “John said this would happen”, he growled. “That you'd try and use me as some kind of weapon.”

Moya shrugged. “He was a smart man.”

“I should've listened to him.”

The DARPA agent crossed her legs and cocked her head. “Time's short, Cole. I need your answer.”

She wasn't surprised when he bared his teeth at her in a snarl. “Go screw yourself, Moya”, he hissed hatefully, “I'm done playing the hero.”

_Oh well_ . Moya got up and put her chair away.  _Didn't think this was going to work anyways_ . She glanced at Captain Blum, then turned back to Cole. 

Her voice was colder now. “I told them this conversation was a waste of time”, she mentioned. “But they insisted.” She rolled her shoulders. “Well, at least I can tell them now I tried. But you were being  _stubborn_ .” She reached for another tray, grabbing the small cylindrical object from it. Best DARPA technology, created from their work with the First Sons, and it had seen its first tests in Manhattan. D-Codes are such a pain in the ass to control through... _conventional_ means, after all.

“See this?” She lifted the device to Cole's eye level. “Take a good look at it, Cole. Once we implant it into the base of your skull, you'll do what we say, when we say it.” She smiled at the expression of shock on MacGrath's face. “Whether you like it or not.”

_There. Startled him into silence. Got fed up with his cocky attitude anyways._

Moya hummed and put the small device back into the tray, then turned to Whitney and Schulze. “You guys go ahead and plug it in. I don't want him to give me lip every time we meet.”

She paused at the sound of a low scoff.

“So that's what you're planning.” She turned, looking at MacGrath. His face was blank, but his eyes calculating. He tilted his head as best as he could with his arms tied over his head. “That had been Sasha's work, correct? That's what you had her make, back before Kessler betrayed you?”

Moya frowned. Something...wasn't right. Cole glanced at Blum. “How long until you use those chips to control not only conduits, but normal soldiers? Make them your lap dogs, huh?”

He leaned back, eyes narrowing. Moya wondered whether they really just became a few shades lighter, or whether it was the shift of shadows on his face. “And then? Are you going to implant them into every guy who doesn't agree with you? Are you going to create a race of slaves jumping at your every word?”

“Admirably”, she deadpanned, “Trying to look brave. What are you doing? Trying to buy time for your pet terrorist to run down the wall? There are scanners out there, better versions than they had in Manhattan. He trips them, and we know where he is. He can't get in here.”

“No. I'm trying to understand it”, Cole claimed. “Didn't expect you to tell me everything.”

Moya frowned. “What? Are you wired? Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but I prepared for this too. We are inside a Faraday Cage, specially shielded against this sort of trouble. Nothing that had been said here will ever get outside.”

“Oh?” Now Cole's lips twitched upwards into a smile. Moya paused, pulling back. Something was definitely _wrong_ here. The machines beeped, signaling that they were still draining his electricity out of him to keep him docile. What had he planned?

“Ma'am!” Moya turned her head, glaring at Blum's men, who were holding one of their techs back. “Ma'am! There's trouble!”

“What kind?”

“A group of civilians just stormed our Eastern Outpost, and they are currently making their way into Steel Harbor!”

“Then shoot them”, Moya growled, “They're screwing with us. Trying to free MacGrath.”

“Ma'am, that's-” The man cut himself off, eyes growing as wide as saucer plates when he stared at the conduit still handcuffed to the machines. “Impossible”, he whispered.

Moya's eyes narrowed. “Impossible? What do you mean?!”

The man swallowed, then tore his attention away and back to her. “MacGrath- MacGrath's the one  _leading_ the assault.”

_What?!_

There was the hollow shriek of metal snapping.

Moya whirled around, facing the captive. Cole stood there on the floor, casually plucking off the remains of the handcuffs. He glanced at her, eyes narrow and definitely _too_ _bright_. His expression was a loose, unhinged grin. Far wider than what humans should be able to comfortably do.

Red static rippled along his arms, seconds before they were twisted into giant wicked  _claws_ . “I took you for smarter, Moya”, he  _purred_ . “Thought you weren't so dumb to forget Viral Scanners on the  _inside_ of your ship. Guess I was wrong. But thanks for making it so  _easy_ for me.”

Moya paled. “Son of a bitch!”

 


	33. The First Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the final confrontation. Enjoy!

** The First Monster **

 

_Cole stood alone in the smoldering wreckage of what was once Empire. No matter where he looked, everywhere the same. He was the only one left. Whatever had been here was burning now._

_He slowly moved along, in vague hopes to find something or someone, but he was alone._

_Only him and the fire._

“ _Quite a sight, isn't it?” A voice asked from behind him. Cole didn't turn around. He knew who this was, because he's been here so often before._

“ _I didn't mean for this to happen”, he said silently, as the other stepped up besides him._

“ _But it did”, the other said, walking to the front. It was Kessler. Like always. Ever since he killed him, he was always here, taunting._

“ _Let me show you something”, Kessler continued and started walking. This was different from the times he's been here, so Cole followed him. They didn't speak much as they were walking through the devastation, until the fire and ashes disappeared and were replaced for a large field of rolling grass._

“ _Where are we?” Cole asked._

“ _You'll find out”, Kessler replied. They fell silent again until the older stopped. Cole saw the three crosses sticking out of the ground in front of them. The two smaller ones had pearl necklaces attached to them, while a picture was pinned against the larger cross._

“ _This is were I buried my girls”, Kessler said with a crestfallen tone. “I tried so hard to protect them, to save them.” His cold eyes turned to Cole. “And in the end I failed.”_

“ _It's not my fault”, Cole bit out._

_Kessler barked a short laugh. “Of course it's your fault. You were soft. Weak.” His eyes narrowed. “You ran when you should've fought.”_

_Cole's head spun when he dropped to his knees. He knew this. Knew this guilt. Kessler and him- they were the same. Kessler was speaking about himself, yet at the same time, he meant him as well. The graves- they were Cole's future as much as it had been Kessler's past. Cole knew what the other felt._

“ _I wanted to keep them safe, that's all”, Cole muttered in the realization what had happened. He knew why Kessler had done this- he knew because he would have done the same. The memories flashing through his brain were Kessler's. Not his, but it had always been him in the mirror._

_Cole could see the little girls- and Trish. “They were my daughters. My wife”, he whispered, tears biting at the corners of his eyes. “And I loved them.” Belatedly, he realized he just refered to himself in the first person. He and Kessler were the same, even though he would never know what it meant to have a family with Trish._

“ _I already told you”, Kessler replied with a tired tone, “Love is a luxury you can't afford. Not anymore. The Beast is coming, and it's ravenous. Unstoppable.” Cole heard something rumble, but Kessler continued, even as he started to vanish in bright light. “The road ahead is lined with graves, Cole.” He said as his voice was starting to drown out in the cracking of the floor beneath. Cole tried to jump away, get to safer ground, but everything was breaking. “If you're going to do what needs to be done”, Kessler continued, “You'll have to ignore those graves. All of them. Regardless of whose bones they hold.”_

_Cole dropped through the ground with a startled yell._

He jerked violently and hit the ground hard, his legs tangled in an old comforter. He was panting, and blinked his eyes through the half darkness, needing several moments to realize where he was. Zeke's and his apartment.

This was just a dream.

Cole groaned and sat up, leaning against the couch he just fell from. “Shit”, he muttered as he draped his arm across his face. “Again.” _Not sure how much more of this I can stomach._

Another nightmare. Another moment his body refused to rest. He couldn't continue like that. His body was a wreck, yet at the same time, he couldn't take it easy. Moya and David were still out there, and they were just the most glaring problems. He wouldn't be able to live normally, he wouldn't be ever be _himself_ again- powers aside. This couldn't go on like this.

His senses tickled at the edge of his mind, and his back crawled. He knew who was here with him. “Never thought you'd stay away”, he muttered without looking up.

“I told you I'd protect you from Moya and Warner”, Alex Mercer replied, his low voice carrying over to him. “So I am here.”

Cole muttered something under his breath and was about to look up when he heard a stern “Don't move.” He obeyed and stayed the way he was, though he did shift his arm slightly to glance at Alex. He found him standing at the wall between the two windows. “They have drones out there”, the viral mutant mentioned. “And they are watching you. So don't do anything that might look like you're talking to someone.”

The urge in his voice alarmed Cole somewhat. “What is going on?” He demanded to know, careful so nobody would see his lips move.

“Moya send men”, Alex told him, “And they are going to be here within the next minutes. They want to capture you.”

“Fuck”

“I am aware”, Alex exhaled. “Look- I know I can't talk you out of trying to face Warner yourself to protect your friends, but at least hear me out.”

Cole scoffed. “Is this why you are here?”

“I want to suggest a course of action. A plan, to take out both, Moya _and_ Warner.”

Both- at the same time? How was this supposed to go? Pitch them against each other, and then pick off whoever remained standing?

“This was why I let you go- I need you _alone._ The less witnesses, the better. _”_

 _Huh?_ Cole furrowed his brows and tried to figure what he meant with it. Alex shrugged. _“_ Moya wants _you_ , so we give her what she wants.” Cole glanced at Alex, seeing the cruel grin on his face. “Just it won't be _you_ in the package.” Before he could say a single word, Alex erupted into countless tendrils and tentacles, his shape blurring for a moment, then it settled. Cole hissed and forced his body to lie still, because there was a second Cole directly in front of him. In retrospect, he really should have expected something like that. So that was why he told him to go- so nobody could witness the exchange.

Alex grinned at him with _his_ face and spread his arms slightly. “You just need to follow me once they take me in, and Warner will follow you. Moya's hideout is at Steel Harbor and it is heavily armed- and this is _exactly_ what we'll need to take out Warner. He's strong, but not indestructible.”

A good idea, maybe- lure that freak into an army's cannon fire, let them soften him up and take him out later, if there weren't a few glaring weak points. Cole shook his head slightly and got up, turning not to face him, but rather the hallway towards the bathroom. “It won't work”, he muttered. “I mean, the face is one thing- but what about the others? You don't have a pulse, or a respiration, you don't have my powers.” He snorted. “Hell, you are also too heavy.”

He heard the noise Alex made when he shifted his form.

“I know”, the mutant replied with a strangely distorted voice, and Cole couldn't help but look back, freezing for a short moment when he saw black veins and tentacles across the ceiling and the walls. They slid along the rough material as if gravity didn't exist, and quickly scuttled into the still empty bathroom to reform into a doppelganger of himself. “However, I am able to imitate a working human organism for some time. It won't be perfect, just enough to fool Moya. I'm counting on her being careless as soon she thinks she got you. If not, I can still force my way in, but I'd rather not do that.”

Cole furrowed his brows, not convinced, though he did move into the bathroom along with Alex. Mercer exhaled. “Look- Moya's a danger. I want to get to her, want to eradicate her as soon as possible, and I can do this. I am able to do this. I can make sure nothing she did here will ever affect you again. I can end this entire quarantine, I can find her plans and secrets. But for this, I _have_ to get close to her, but I can't do that when taking her men's forms. She has protocols at work that would make it extremely hard for me to sneak in the conventional way. But she won't look at _you_ twice, especially when she's convinced she has you under her control. This is my chance.”

It really was. If Alex took out Moya, then it meant he would be at the heart of the entire operation. He could destroy them from the inside out. He could end this whole mess with one single swoop. But again, even though Alex was able to copy his face, and also an entire biological body- what about the others?

“My powers”, Cole mentioned. “What about them? If they aren't there, then Moya will notice that something is wrong.”

Alex relaxed at the indirect go-ahead. He spread his arms and focused for a moment. Cole was about to ask what he was doing, when there were suddenly sparks along the mutant's arms. The courier's eyes went wide, because it did resemble what he was able to do.

“How?” He asked bewildered. “You said you couldn't get my powers!”

“Electroplax”, Mercer grinned. “The cells found in various electric fish. Specialized muscular tissue that generates electrical charges. It was a bitch to figure them out since I had to build them from scratch. Took me a while, but then I added some residue metal to my skin as well, to allow the sparks jump across my surface. A bit crude, I admit, but I am certain that this is a good approximate of your powers. I can fool them.”

Cole's head was swimming. It was _ideal_ , though. But- “Your weight- what about it?”

Alex's grin turned slightly painful. “I burnt off a lot of my Biomass, forced my body to destroy most of it.” He inclined his head. “Listen Cole- I am doing this to _help_ you. I want Moya gone just as much as you, and to do this, I am willing to make sacrifices.”

The courier exhaled shakily. From what he knew of his ally, then mass equaled health in his case. If he had _willingly_ removed his mass, then he was serious about this whole business.

He couldn't tell him not to, not after he forced his hand like that. “Do it, then”, he told him.

Mercer relaxed. “I will. You can trust me, Cole. But you have to make sure you follow me to get Warner into the open, but you _need_ to remain unseen to Moya as long as possible. Once you get to Steel Harbor, you can go all out, because then I can use the distraction and massacre them- but you need to give me some time. An hour, maybe two.”

“Okay”, Cole nodded, then took his phone off his strap to offer it to Alex. “Okay. This plan is pretty fragile, but it's the best idea until now. I trust you do the right thing.”

Alex took the phone and handed his own over, when his head snapped to the side. “They're here”, he growled. “Get out of here as stealthily as possible, then hide. I take care of them.”

Cole hurried to the back window and yanked it open, then peered outside for the drones. He didn't like the idea very much, but as he said, it was the plan most likely to succeed. And they would need all victories they could get, if only to shove a collective middle finger into Moya's face.

Maybe it wouldn't work, maybe someone would recognize them halfway through- but it was the tiniest amount of hope left for them. Moya needed to disappear, and David had to be stopped.

It was a risk, but it was the only chance. Cole decided to throw in everything he had, and pray for the best. Hopefully, this would work.

* * *

 

It had really worked. Though skeptical at first, Cole had watched in surprise from his hideout how the group of soldiers dragged Alex in his disguise away without ever noticing a difference. He was surprised to find the other guy to be such an accomplished actor. Not even once he'd broken the act of being a currently-being-drugged conduit that had no chance fighting back against whatever was in that gas. The small sparks and the broken window was just further testament to how easily he fell into a role (they would need to repair the window and the door, though), but for now, it was enough.

Part one finished. Now to part two...Cole glanced around, sending out his radar pulse. With 'him' gone from here, the drones pulled away, but they weren't his main concern. David was.

Alex said he 'smelled' him...on a genetic level. His head hurt from trying to process this. Damn, he had to get him a few hours to deal with Moya, but if he waited too long, then that damn black thing was going to find him and maul him again. Fighting him on his own would be possible, he was sure, but he wouldn't want to count on his luck to hold. No, they needed him at Steel Harbor, where Moya's men should provide enough distraction for him to take the other down.

And for that, he needed his friends' help. He crept along a corner, pausing when he noticed Harms and Zeke standing there, staring hatefully at the soldiers that just dragged 'him' away. Then he realized that Harms was physically restraining Zeke, while his former best friend snapped and swore.

“Lemme go! We gotta do something!”

“They're going to kill us.”

“Who gives a rip?!”

“I do”, Cole sighed and peeled out of the shade to confront them. Zeke and Harms whirled around and just froze. The courier waved his hand. “They follow you, then all of us are screwed. They have to ignore us for now.”

“Cole?!”

“What the-?!” Zeke's head snapped back to where the helicopter was just a tiny spot. “But- what- didn't they just-?!”

The courier snorted, slightly amused. “They grabbed Alex. Not me.”

“What?” Harms furrowed his brows. “But- that guy _looked just like you_?!”

Zeke made a startled noise, then cleared his throat. “Guess if he managed to look like a dog, then it won't be trouble to look like you, right?” Harms' head whipped around, and his expression all but screamed 'What the Hell?!'.

“Correct”, Cole glanced back over his shoulder, expecting David to pop up at the most inappropriate time possible. “But there's not much time. I'm guessing Moya won't be fooled for long, and we _need_ to get going.”

“But why- guess he can deal with it on his own?”

“Not because of that”, The courier frowned. “The black thing that attacked us? It's still out there. And it is after _me_. I need to lure it to Moya's hideout, let all the guns there do the job for me.”

Harms drew his brows together. “We're with you in this”, he told him.

“Thanks. I know it's going to be dangerous- but we have to cause a scene, give Alex the chance to take care of Moya, and to attract that black bastard.”

Zeke nodded. “Hell, we're with you Cole. Sounds like it's gonna be lotsa fun.”

The warden sighed. “You kids...but what the Hell? They're trying to run us out of our own city. It's time to show them we got teeth too. Come, let's get a few guys to help us.”

* * *

 

Steel Harbor. After the Dustmen had been cleared, Moya had taken over the entire area and planted herself right onto the aircraft carrier USS Washington to keep an eye on the things. The carrier would usually stay out in the bay, but it did come to dock several times a day. Which was why it was accessible at the moment.

Zeke and Harms stood together with Cole on a building, spying through a pair of binoculars to check on the area. Cole noticed that they removed the containers and mazes the Dustmen had erected, to make room for their guards and eradicate most of the blind angles. There were a lot of soldiers milling about. But there were also enough buildings to safely hide behind.

Not that they needed it. Cole scoffed and shrugged out of the coat he'd been wearing for the past hour. He had taken it off the smelliest hobo he could find, promised he'd be giving it back. He used it as camouflage of sorts, as David hunted via scent. He had hoped that covering his own scent with another smell would give them the time needed to prepare everything. Until now he hadn't seen a glimpse of the black conduit. He decided to count is as a win.

Though now, they had to act quickly. Alex did have enough time to prepare himself, now it was up to _him_ to do something.

“Okay”, Cole cracked his knuckles, nodding towards the watchtower in the far eastern corner. “I'm going down there, and start fucking shit up. You guys come as soon it's clear and clean out their storages for food and medical supplies.”

Zeke grinned. “Never a dull moment around here.”

Harms snorted. “That's the spirit.”

Cole charged up briefly, then lifted his arms and the sky darkened instantly. When he yanked his fists down, a giant lightning bolt followed him. Several thousand volts slammed through the watchtower and tore a hole where it once stood. The soldiers had been flung away and mostly knocked unconscious. Before the static subsided, Cole was already moving, leaping off the roof to hit the ground. The men that remained on their feet spun around- but they were too slow. Cole knocked them out with a few well-placed lightning bolts.

When he stormed the harbor area, the cops under Harms followed. They were more careful and stuck to the shadows to prevent being seen, but the courier was the center of attention anyways.

He brought up his shield as he rushed along the water line, letting it swallow up the bullets they shot at him. He wasn't here to kill the soldiers, he was here to lure David.

“Get him!” Someone shouted, “Put a bullet in his back!”

Yeah. That won't be so easy. Cole twisted his body to the side and dove behind some ammo crates. He generated several grenades and lugged them over. They weren't very powerful, just strong enough to throw these guys off balance and get him some room to breathe. Once he was sure, he lunged out from behind his cover and zapped the few guys around him, picking up his voice.

“Moya! Get out of there! I know you can hear me!” Someone tried to make a grab for him, and Cole responded by knocking the guy flat on his ass. “Moya!” He bellowed again. “Time to pay for what you've done!”

He heard the whistle of a missile and whirled around, smacking it with a shockwave so it flew away and exploded harmlessly somewhere on the ground. “Moya!” He howled a last time. “You wanted me! Here I am! Come and get me!”

He heard the soldiers around shout in alarm, and he turned slightly, put off by the sudden change of tone. Hollow eye sockets stared at him, and muscles bulged under pitch-black skin in preparation for an attack. Cole grit his teeth and ducked his body. “Hello David.”

* * *

 

Alex was carefully making his way through the _USS Washington_ , still in his Cole disguise, but he was in a perfectly good mood.

After having been detected, he made sure they couldn't escape- he shot out his Whipfist and impaled the three at the door, then tore them apart and consumed them before they even realized what was going on. The captain was the next to go- a pair of claws through his sternum ended his life for good. The two scientists had cowered in a corner. They were easy prey.

With Moya though, he took his time, all without even reverting to his original form. It was a real treat to see her expression when the man she thought she could control turned on her and showed her just how little she was in real life. It was pity though that she accepted her fate as soon he had pinned her against the wall- he had expected her to fight tooth and nail.

Maybe she had realized the glaring weak point in her strategy to have a fence of Viral Scanners around her base. A fence was only good against anything that came from the ground, but when Alex let himself be captured, they carried him _over_ the fence, out of the scanner's range. And they never bothered with installing scanners inside the ship anyways. So it had been Moya's mistake to underestimate the Runner.

A mistake she wouldn't live to learn from.

After that, after gaining her memories, he had found her computer easily enough and logged into it, then started to copy everything she had onto an external drive. It would take some time, so he left it there and headed deeper into the carrier. He still needed to deal with Sasha. However, he was also concerned about his ally. After all, Cole went willingly and _openly_ into an area that made even _him_ think twice about assaulting it. But Alex trusted the conduit to know exactly what he was doing. What he was doing here, was just as important, and Alex was really the only one who could do this.

He was currently heading down to where Moya had kept Sasha locked up, though the total lack of people around was strange. Something was definitely going on, so if he wanted to have a piece of whatever was going on, he'd better hurry. Also, Alex was interested to finally meet Sasha face-to-face, since the only memories he had of her were either Kessler's or Moya's.

He considered to shift back into his original form, but he realized that when wearing Cole's face, he might actually take the other conduit by surprise. It was worth a shot, and if everything went wrong, then he would still be able to murder anything she'd throw at him.

“Shit! I need back-up! I need back-up in here!!” He turned his head slightly at the sound of a man shouting and the roar of a rifle discharging. Just as he was about to head to the source of the screams, a single soldier backed into the hallway, shooting at something in front of him. “Fuck! I need back-up!! That crazy bitch is free!”

He bumped right into Alex and whirled around, eyes widening at the sight of the supposedly captured conduit. “Oh my God...”

Like a viper, Sasha suddenly lunged at the man, claw-like fingers closing around his throat. “Get away from him!” She shrieked enraged, seconds before she spat a pitch-black spray of tar over the guy's face. The man's scream rose in volume, turning into a howl of pure anguish before he ultimately collapsed to the ground, very much dead. Alex arched an eyebrow, then glanced at the female conduit. So she had managed to free herself. Pity, because it meant consuming her was going to require some trickery.

Sasha's expression lit up instantly as soon the guy choked his last. “Cole, my beloved!” She claimed, “You escaped this bitch's grasp!”

Alex cleared his throat, staying in his role as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. She didn't pay enough attention, I guess.”

Sasha was upon him within the blink of an eye, her arms around his shoulders and her lips _fucking touching his._ His entire Biomass rippled beneath his surface from the uninvited close contact _and_ Kessler's memories of his former lover. His first instincts were to grow his claws and rip that conduit to shreds, when the rational part of his mind quickly caught up with what she was doing. She was _inside his personal bubble_ . She was distracted, and oblivious to him _not_ being the guy she expected. He assumed she only knew of him from her Reaper's point of view, but had no knowledge about him otherwise. And thus, she wasn't aware he could change shapes.

And at the moment, Alex Mercer was still _Cole MacGrath_. He was still acting. And he could easily deceive the woman. Like he did with Moya.

“I love you, Cole”, Sasha muttered, as she pulled away slightly to look him in the eye. Alex grinned and seized the back of her head with one hand to keep her there. “I'm sorry it had to end this way, dear”, he whispered, feeling the conduit freeze for a split second.

Before she was able to realize that he was not who she believed him to be, Alex wrenched her head back, effortlessly snapping her spine with a loud _crack_ that echoed eerily off the metal walls of the carrier.

Sasha went limp in his hold. Alex inclined his head, glancing at her eyes as life faded out of them. He knew her _intimately_ through Kessler's memories. She was brilliant. Incredibly so even, and that caught Kessler's attention. He never loved her, but she believed he did. Kessler had used her for his own gains, had her create all types of controlling technologies, before she figured out what he was really doing. They had a massive fight, one that was witnessed by half the First Sons, before Sasha left, threatening to pay it back to him. However, in the end she played right into Kessler's hands. By forcing Cole to adapt, to make him stronger, she paved his way to become more powerful- exactly what Kessler had been planning.

In a way, even _Alex_ was still Kessler's puppet. Kessler _knew_ him, they had been _friends_ in another time- and knowing of Blacklight and his presence in Empire City, Kessler had set up everything so Alex would take care of Moya, Sasha, Alden and everybody else for him- Hell, the fact alone he had his men use Sasha's red tar against him was proof to that. Kessler _knew_ Alex would have adapted to it, he _knew_ that he wouldn't be able to be harmed by it any longer. It was- in his mind- a sort of gift to the Runner, something to make him stronger and able to take out Sasha.

Kessler had played him like a fiddle, and Alex went along with it. The thought did disgust him, but at the same time, he had to realize that it had been the only way to protect himself, Dana, Cole and everybody else. Kessler was a bastard, yes, but he was an highly intelligent bastard, too. And no matter his own feelings about being used like that, Alex did admire the conduit for it. It was brilliant, and in the end, those he wanted dead were dead and those he wanted to protect were still alive.

 _Except Trish_ , he thought darkly. Trish was the one death he _could_ have prevented, but hadn't done so. And it hurt him. Not physically, but mentally. He couldn't believe that losing one human sat this heavy on his conscience. But it did. And Alex had no-one to blame for her death but himself.

He glanced back at Sasha's body and his tendrils slipped out of his shape to ensnare and pull her remains inside.

“Holy--!” He turned slightly at the sharp exclamation, coming face-to-face with a troop of soldiers. Huh.

Alex cocked his head and swiftly shifted into his original shape, even as his body still settled down, then turned fully to face them. He recognized the leader in an instant: it was the guy that dragged him off before- and he was still slightly peckish. The Runner grinned and pulled out his claws.

“Well, sorry guys- but I can't allow any witnesses to run around”, he claimed in a mock-friendly tone. The men scrambled back immediately, starting to shoot at him. Alex was faster.

* * *

 

Cole was in trouble, Alex knew. The men he just consumed had been sent in here to get Moya and get their orders from her. Orders because they didn't know what else to do. Most of their men had lost their heads (sometimes even literally) when David Warner appeared. He had tried to take out Cole, who battled the other conduit. Alex needed to hurry, but his data still hadn't finished transferring, and there were still too many loose ends.

No, at the moment, he had to leave MacGrath on his own. But that didn't mean he would be unable to send him any assistance.

He discarded the thought of using Cole's form any longer- it wasn't secure anymore and the real conduit was out there, playing a deadly cat-and-mouse game with Warner. Alex had to hurry, so he swiftly shifted into Moya's form and hurried down into the belly of the _Washington_.

To where Moya's labs were.

His teeth ground together in anger. Moya hadn't been just content trying to get her fingers at the Ray Sphere, no. Knowing that this could (and actually did) end in failure, she did her own little experiments. She found three of her men who had the correct blood type and injected them with a sample of a non-activated conduit's blood and various other substances (one was a variant of the DX-1120 which he already encountered in Manhattan), then put them into a nutrient solution to grow them into her own D-Codes. Artificial Conduits, in a sense. Quite crude, actually, but it showed him she wanted what Blackwatch wanted: Supersoldiers that only obeyed her.

Over the course of the past two days, the men's muscle mass increased, as did their biological systems to accommodate all of it- but it was too slow for her liking. When she first tried to deploy them, the scientist there told her they would die as soon they left the tanks.

Alex snorted. They wouldn't need to live for very long, just long enough to take the heat off Cole's back. And if he could disrupt another batch of D-Codes, then it was fine by him.

He found the doc working on those artificial conduits easily enough. Alex pulled his face into the best impression of Moya's pissed-off expression he could manage and marched right up to the guy. “Open those damn things up!” He snapped, “All of them!”

“They're still not ready-” the doc tried to say. Alex rolled his eyes and yanked Moya's pistol from his Biomass, leveling it directly with the man's forehead. “I'm not asking, doctor”, he sneered at him.

The man scrambled back and unlatched the locks. Alex snorted and watched the liquid inside drain away, freeing the eight-foot-soldiers. He knew they weren't going to survive for long, but they only needed to soften Warner up a bit.

“Make sure they don't harm Cole”, he told the three heavily muscled men, “Everyone else is expendable.”

The artificial conduits glanced at him, when their military training managed to get through their damaged brains and they snapped their heels together and gave him a loose salute. Then they tore off, leaving Alex and the cowering scientist behind.

Alex waited for a moment to make sure they were really gone, before he turned to the doc. “Good work, doctor”, he grinned, his expression unusual on Moya's face. “I think that does mean you're going to get promoted.”

“Ma'am. I doubt you'll have any clue of what you just did”, the man countered.

Alex's grin widened. “Oh, I think I know. I just destroyed this little science project without it ever having shown any significant results.” The doctor stared at him, and Alex shrugged. “And you know what? I'm intending to continue this. But first of all-” His eyes flashed crimson and his arm turned into a giant claw again. “I have to make sure that this entire fuck can not be repeated.”

* * *

 

General Bridges was _foaming_ at the mouth, but Alex wasn't too interested in it. He watched the battle on the dock near the _Washington_ , watched how Cole tried to hold his own against Warner. It wasn't looking too good, and even the D-Codes he sicced on the mutated conduit weren't faring much better.

Alex was currently barking orders at the men on the bridge, telling them to get the cannons targeted.

“Moya!” Bridges barked, getting his attention through the rage in his voice. “You're out of line this time!” Alex glanced at him, doing his best to look like a pissed-off-DARPA-Agent. Bridges continued rambling. “That thing out there just erased a hundred million dollars in research, all because of your damn infatuation with that MacGrath kid!” His face had turned a deep red shade along with the pitch in volume. “I'm shutting you down!”

 _Oh. If you want to play it that way..._ Alex used Moya's pistol again and just fired once directly between Bridges' eyes, splattering his brain all over the techs and screens behind him. “Never knew when to keep your mouth shut”, he grumbled. He spun around, fierce eyes settled on the stunned techs and soldiers scattered about. “Okay listen up!”, he barked, “I want every gun on this boat manned and firing at that thing! If anything happens to Cole, I swear to God I'll kill all of you myself!” The men immediately swung around and gave orders.

This was taking too long. Alex whirled and marched out, going just a bit too fast to be entirely human, but apparently, nobody seemed to notice. He shoved a soldier out of the way roughly and hurried down the stairs. He had to get his drive first- the data was too valuable for any of these fools to get their grimy hands on it. He checked the progress- 91%. Fuck it- it should be enough. He ended the transfer with what he had managed to get off, then crushed the computer's main drive to dust.

Alex snorted and Moya's form blurred, turning into that of Alex J. Mercer. The Runner cracked his neck. Time to take care of this overgrown science experiment.

* * *

 

“Hello David.”

Lightning snapped out of Cole's arms as the black conduit rose from the crouch he'd been in. David regarded him for a second, before he lunged at him. Cole instantly started to dive to the side, as fast as he could, to avoid those tentacles. However, in that moment, he realized that there were Marines just behind him, and if David hit them, they would be dead.

So Cole had to abandon his jump to safety and just braced himself, releasing lightning everywhere to slow David's attack down, at least.

It still felt like being hit by a freight truck (and he should know), and Cole let out a half grunt-half gasp at the feeling of the air punched from his lungs. The other conduit didn't let him go, instead his tentacles wrapped tightly around his chest and constricted once, before they slammed him hard into the ground. _Ow_.

David let go of him with a snarl when bullets dug into his flesh and whirled around, tentacles shifting into hands to tear several Marines to shreds. There were magenta sparks around the black conduit, healing the damage on his body.

He drained the men's life force as he killed them. Cole growled and threw his body into the larger conduit, increasing the output of his lightning to zap him. The effect was...negligible.

David snorted and whacked him again, throwing him backwards by several yards. Cole groaned, but instantly leapt back to his feet, charging up once more. David whipped into his direction, snarling enraged, but didn't move. More bullets impacted into his sides, and the conduit whirled again, ripping more men to pieces.

Cole immediately fired several of his explosive ball lightnings at Warner, making him stumble. “You idiots!” He shouted at the soldiers, “Get _away_ from him, damnit!”

The black conduit roared and dove at him. Cole swore and rolled to the side, then hastily dashed away from that thing. He didn't really want to fight Warner- that guy was so much stronger than him and nearly killed him once already. He just wanted to be left alone so he had a chance to finally come to a close with what happened in the past two weeks.

But he couldn't let David run around like that, trying to murder Kessler. He understood him, really- after all, he never asked to be blasted by that damn Ray Sphere thirty times. Cole knew the feeling of rage and hatred, knew the craving for revenge that drove the black conduit. He wanted to destroy Kessler for what he's done to him. Cole could relate- he too wished to (and actually did in the end) eradicate Kessler to avenge Trish's death.

But- there was the problem.

When Cole went on his rampage, nobody besides Kessler and his First Sons suffered. David, however, murdered dozens of people left and right without any care. It didn't matter whether they were Kessler's men or scared civilians or soldiers trying to protect the people- Warner simply killed them.

And this was what Cole could not allow. He had walked away for too long already- from his parents, from College, from jobs, even himself. Not any longer. He was going to protect Empire City. Even though Empire had done nothing for him, Cole knew that he couldn't doom the city by leaving it to Warner. He couldn't do this to Trish.

So he had to bite the bullet. Lightning shaped into blades at his wrists as the courier whirled around to slice them at the black conduit. Warner immediately left the Marines alone and went for him again. Cole bounced back and lifted his hands over his head, yanking them down as the sky darkened instantly. A massive lightning strike smashed into David, and the roar of the thunderclap easily drowned out his pained shriek.

The Marines backed away in fear, and from the corner of his eyes Cole saw Harms and Zeke giving him a thumbs-up. The courier let the attack going a little bit longer until he was certain he managed to fry that bastard. Exhausted, he dropped his arms and huffed out, turning away from the stench of burnt flesh and tar. He noticed a group of three people- two women and one man- just climb out of the sewer and stare at him with wide eyes. One of them was Rachel- she volunteered helping the doc in their makeshift sick bay, but he didn't recognize the other two. Cole cocked his head and quickly glanced back at the Marines, who were quite reluctant to do anything.

“You-” he told the three, “Shouldn't be here. Get out, quickly.”

“COLE!” Rachel suddenly shrieked, but too late when a pair of powerful tentacles suddenly seized his chest in a crushing grip. Cole had exactly one split second to realize that he was fucked when David yanked him backwards and slammed him hard into the floor, stunning him. _How is this possible? Not even Kessler managed to withstand this!_

David roared and pulled him up. Cole choked once, but still tried to summon his lightning. The tentacles just held tighter and Cole's static electricity tapered off in a flurry of purple sparks. He wrenched his head around startled, watching how David's own wounds started to grow shut, just as his own body started to feel numb.

The black conduit pulled him up, glaring at him from his empty eye sockets. Cole hissed and tried to squirm free, but somehow his body was failing. He remembered Warner consumed neuroelectricity. _His_ neuroelectricity at the moment, to be precise. Warner was currently _killing_ him, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. He wheezed and tried to wriggle free, but had no strength to do so. “Go to Hell.”

Suddenly, David was slammed back, letting go of him, so Cole hit the ground in a heap. His whole body hurt and he felt literally drained. With a groan, he tried to prop himself up, just to witness David being assaulted by three giant guys. Their muscles bulged beneath dark skin, and he could see cables sticking out of their skulls. _What was going on?_

David hissed and tried to swipe at one of them, but the other two lunged at him and drove him back. Cole forced a grin, but flinched from the soreness in his body. “Ha-ha”, he wheezed, “I think you just pissed off the wrong people.”

One of the guys threw a bone-cracking punch into David's face, snapping his head to the side, the force of the blow creating a shockwave that threw Cole back and send him sprawling. David hissed and fired his eye-laser at the guy, then suddenly pushed towards him and burrowed his tentacles into the guy's skull. As Zeke and Harms arrived to pick him up, Cole watched in terror how that one guy started smoking from the eye sockets, seconds before the flesh of his head scorched off and his brick house of a body collapsed unmoving.

“Holy shit!” Harms hissed.

“What are those things?!” Zeke squeaked in panic, tugging his friend up.

Cole coughed once. “Probably something Moya cooked up”, he wheezed.

“Shit. We got to get you out of here”, Harms realized.

“I can't”, Cole replied, carefully stepping to the front to figure out whether his legs took his weight. They did, albeit barely. He considered it a win. “I run, and he's gonna come after me. I have to end this.”

David's roar drew his attention. One of the remaining brick houses held him in a chokehold, while the other tried to cave in his chest. Warner struggled and managed to seize the guy latched onto him with his tentacles.

With herculean effort, he simply _pulled_ , tearing the guy apart at the hip before turning to face the remaining one.

Cole just stared in horror. This- _this_ was the power of a single conduit? How could he even hope to defeat _this_?! He heard Harms yell something at him, but nothing came through to him. He just stood there, staring.

And then he realized that if he couldn't defeat this guy, how was he supposed to stop the Beast? His eyes narrowed and lightning snapped out of his skin. He couldn't be scared. He couldn't be weak. Weakness had gotten Trish killed.

His lightning blades came back into existence and he lunged without thinking, slamming both down with all his strength. David howled in agony and wheeled back, his lower right arm thumping to the floor, hacked off at his shoulder. He could be injured. He could be _killed_.

Cole shouted at him, lightning darkening the sky. “Yeah! You want a piece of me? Come and get it!”

David kicked him, send him flying across the entire harbor. _Okay. Ouch._

He became aware of the black conduit killing the last of those giant guys, healing right back up again (but not growing his arm back, small mercies), then lunged at Cole again. The courier faced him, gritting his teeth. “Well?” He challenged, “We gonna do this, or what?!”

Cannon fire erupted, blowing pieces of the harbor to smithereens. Cole dodged to the side, while David roared.

The ground exploded.

* * *

 

Warner had been so busy trying to kill Cole, he never noticed Alex's presence. Now he had to suffer the consequences when the Runner's Groundspikes impaled him and held him aloft. The black creature squirmed with pained shrieks as he struggled to free himself. Alex scoffed and yanked his claw out of the ground, slamming Warner into the cracked asphalt as the spikes pulled back. The conduit was already healing again, so Alex instantly leapt at him, Claws shifting into his Hammerfists which he used to pummel the conduit back into the ground, hoping to flatten him.

Warner thought differently. His body reared up and he shot a beam of magenta energy right into Alex's chest, searing a good-sized hole through his sternum. Alex gasped and reeled slightly, just enough for Warner to lunge upwards and tackle him violently enough to send him flying. The Runner hit the floor hard and rolled over from his own momentum, tearing a grove into the ground.

It had been a while someone hit him that hard (the first things he remembered were the D-Codes in Manhattan, Heller and the Supreme Hunter), but blunt damage wasn't even effective against Blacklight. It just disoriented him, so it was incredibly easy to flip himself into the correct position.

The main problem was that Warner was pouncing on him again, trying to take him down, and Alex couldn't risk dodging, as there were civilians just behind him. A part of him recognized the woman as Linda Kaufman, the USTV reporter, another part realized that they were just in the way. Normally he wouldn't care too much about casualties, but here and yet, they needed all the allies they could get- and Kaufman _did_ have leverage. However, it did mean he couldn't use his entire amount of power. Not with _audience_ present.

Alex heaved a heavy sigh internally and dug his feet into the ground hard enough to crack it, while both his arms shifted into giant shields, just in time to stop a full-body tackle from David. The floor cracked some more from the force of the impact, but Alex himself didn't budge. Instead, he flung one arm to the side, smacking the black conduit with his shield hard enough to make him stumble to the side, and shifted to his Blade in the same moment to chop off another of his arms. He had aimed at something more _vital_ , but the conduit did stagger too much and thus, avoided the lethal blow. Warner swayed back with a screech, just in time for Cole to fry him with several lightning bolts. The mutated conduit shrieked and suddenly pounced away from the two of them, rushing towards some of the Marines nearby.

Every alarm bell in Alex's head went off in that moment as he recognized the movement as something he had done so often himself, even in mid-battle, and he hastily lunged after the conduit, meeting him halfway to the Marines in a violent bodycheck and managing to throw him off course. Warner screeched and squirmed, but Alex dug his feet into the ground to find purchase, then shifted to the Musclemass to drag the conduit away. Warner thrashed against him and eventually managed to break free of his hold (something not many had managed), trying to make another run on the Marines. Cole intercepted him this time with a lightning bolt, so the black conduit was forced to abandon his endeavor.

“Whoa! What is going on?!” Cole demanded to know, “I thought he had it out for _me_!”

“He has”, Alex agreed, “But he's not _stupid_.” His eyes narrowed as he watched the black conduit. “But, like you and I, he requires frequent recharges to keep his body working.”

Warner snarled and ducked slightly. Cole's expression turned confused. “Wait- recharges- like _people_?!”

“Yes. He's weakening. He has to recharge to survive- if we stop him from doing just that-”

“We can kill him”, Cole finished. His head snapped to the side. “The carrier. We need to get him on that carrier. Better _inside_. Then I'll blow the shit out of him.”

“Deal” Alex had no doubts that the heavy mutation Warner endured rendered him near inedible for his purposes- and he couldn't consume with reporters watching. But at least, the guy was not unkillable. The Runner pounced on the conduit, claws blazing. They shredded through skin and tissue easily, but the conduit healed up entirely _too fast_ for it to work. He heard Cole shout at the Marines to move their asses, then he joined in on the fun with lightning bolts.

Warner bucked and roared, and the more the two of them assaulted him, the angrier he became. Good- they needed him enraged and not thinking clearly. It would be harder because he was going to be a lot stronger, but he wouldn't take care of his own health. Though Alex wasn't going to wait for that. They needed that freak gone. He shifted to Musclemass and just grabbed the conduit at his hips, then hoisted him up and smacked him with the skull first into the ground, stunning him for a second.

A second was more than enough. Alex shifted his hold on the conduit and rocketed off the floor, dragging him along. Warner snarled and squirmed, and quickly managed to free himself from the Runner's hold, but then Alex immediately air-dashed to the side. Cole's lightning bolt struck the black conduit with full force, sending him sprawling onto the _Washington_ 's flight deck. The cannons swung around, targeting the black creature, and started to fire. Alex snorted and coiled up his body. Then he expelled air upwards, shooting down into his opponent like a missile.

The entire aircraft carrier _shook_ from the violent impact, and the two of them collapsed the flight deck, tumbling down into the darkness.

Alex snarled and dove at the stunned conduit, just in time for the alarm sirens to start blaring. Warner hissed and charged up, shooting his energy beams at the Runner. When they connected, they burnt smoking holes into his Biomass. The restricted area prevented Alex from dodging, so he had no choice but to take them head-on. But he had enough mass to spare.

And David was weakening and alone.

Lightning snapped through the murky darkness, hitting and frying the black conduit. Cole leapt into the belly of the ship, fashioning grenades to keep Warner moving. Warner snarled and lashed one of his remaining arms out, trying to impale the younger, but Alex snatched the limb with his heavily muscled hands and just _twisted_ , snapping every bone inside. Warner howled out and stumbled back, kicking a tank over.

Jet Fuel.

Alex's and Cole's expressions turned into wide, unhinged grins at the same time. The courier nodded once, and Alex shifted to the Whipfist, slashing it in a half-circle to slice as many fuel tanks open as somehow possible. The air was quickly saturated with the stench of kerosine.

“Let's see you walk away from this one”, Cole growled, lifting his arms.

_**KRA-KOOOOOOM** _

The thunderclap was deafening loud, especially in this confined area, and the flash of light took Alex's sight for a moment.

But Hell if it wasn't effective. David thrashed and roared in pain, but the burning fuel ate away at his ruined body without mercy. Cole snorted and summoned a second thunder strike, and that one quite literally eradicated the black conduit's body, rendering it to little more than charred bones and singed flesh.

* * *

NO! NO! This wasn't the way it was supposed to go! What Kessler had done to him- what Kessler had turned him into- it was the Lord's will he'd use it against the one who wronged him. Kessler had to die, _had to die_ \- but the Beast was at his side, protecting him.

He couldn't break the Beast, not like he could Kessler. When he tried to kill him, Kessler barely could withstand his might. He would have destroyed him and purged his evil from the world, but they had been interrupted.

By the woman who Kessler lied to?

It would fit, probably- because she was lying too. Lying to Kessler. Lying to her men. Because she wanted Kessler- wanted his power. For herself. For her masters.

Kessler had murdered his wife. Had murdered his daughter. He could not go unpunished.

But the Beast- the Beast was always at Kessler's side. He could not destroy Kessler as long the Beast was there, but the Beast was too strong. He was burning now, couldn't stop the Beast or Kessler.

He had to.

“ _You don't need to fight”_

He whipped around, eyes widening when he recognized his wife. She smiled at him- a sad smile. _“Stop fighting”_

_I can't. Kessler- Kessler's still alive._

“ _Kessler does not matter.”_

_He murdered you. He lied to you. He used you!_

“ _I know”_

_He has to pay!_

“ _He already did. Kessler is already dead. You are fighting a mere memory of him.”_

 _But-_ A horrific thought came to him. _But I killed so many- killed because I had no other choice- to get Kessler-_

“ _You were in agony. Confused. The Lord will forgive you. And I already do”_

_You-_

“ _I love you, David. Please, come back to us.”_

Her hand was stretched out towards him. Soft, warm. Loving. There was no more pain there. No more fighting. No more hatred.

He took her hand and let the light envelop him, take him away.

* * *

 

Cole exhaled and hunched over, groaning. “Shit”, he gasped, “So that's finally over.”

Alex eyed the scorched carcass. “It is. Warner's gone.”

“What about Moya?”

The Runner grinned. “Had a tasty ass.”

Cole made a face and was about to say something when a loud groan echoed throughout the whole ship, making both whip around. The sound of metal bursting reached their ears, seconds before the _Washington_ suddenly keeled to one side.

_Oh._

Something broke and water started rushing into the lower decks. Alex swore and grabbed Cole's arm. “Let's get out of here”, he snarled, “Quick! This whole thing is going down!”

“Yeah. No argument there”, Cole deadpanned as he hopped up and latched onto broken steel beams to pull himself to the hole they've torn.

The _Washington_ was sinking fast, mostly because one of those lightning strikes probably tore a hole through the hull. Alex and Cole hurried upwards, and once they made it to the flight deck, they broke into a flat sprint, rushing across the tilted surface. With one last leap, they both jumped back to the dock and continued their mad dash, as Marines all around them did the same. The _Washington_ groaned and turned like a wounded animal, but as it turned completely over to its side, it sank even faster. Water was churning and sweeping across Steel Harbor.

“Cole! Alex!” They both whipped around at the sound of Zeke's voice and found him standing on the roof of a flat two-story building. They immediately changed course and headed for him, quickly scaling the walls.

To Alex, all of this was incredibly exciting and got his blood pumping. He wanted more of it. More destruction, more chaos, more running. This was what he was made for, after all.

To Cole, however, it was tiresome. The adrenaline had worn off, and the total amount of injuries and bruises finally did their rest. Dunbar pulled him over the edge, where he flopped down onto the roof with a groan.

“Don't think I'm going to move soon”, he mumbled weakly.

“But it was freakin' awesome!” Dunbar claimed excitedly. “Man, you guys totally fried that thing! _And_ an entire carrier! You are friggin' A”

“Uncle Sam's not going to be happy”, Harms muttered, glancing at the mostly-sunken remains of the carrier.

Alex scoffed. “Please. He messed with Empire and Empire showed Uncle Sam just how fucking out of her league he was.” He crossed his arms. “But Moya and Bridges are gone now. Everything that's going to happen now is something we can deal with.” _Except Blackwatch, maybe. But I'll deal with them once they actually come here._

“Yeah”, Cole commented from his position on the floor. He turned over to stare at the sky. “Nobody's gonna mess with us anymore.”

 


	34. Working for a Nuclear Free City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping things up here.

** Working for a Nuclear Free City **

 

“ _This is Linda Kaufman for USTV. I'm joined by Captain Paul Sheely, an EMT from Empire City's Engine 14. Captain Sheely, can you explain where we are?”_

“ _We're in a sewer beneath Empire City, but I don't want to say any more than that. The last thing we need is for people to start raiding us.”_

“ _And how long have you been down here?”_

“ _Nearly a week, since they started bombing the surface. Had to leave the hospital. Even though it had been thrashed by the Dustmen, it was much better than this here. We were doing pretty well over there, but now we're getting hit by Staph infections, E. Coli, things like that. Diarrhea's a huge problem. The city's water purification system's shut down and there's barely anything to eat.”_

“ _What about the food the military's been dropping?”_

“ _The what?”_

“ _We were told that the military regularly drops food into the city.”_

“ _We wouldn't be eating out of garbage cans if there was food. Everything on TV, the stuff you've reported on? No offense, but it's all bullshit. There isn't any food, any medicine. Between the military rounding up people and idiots shooting anything that moves, this is the only place that's safe. Which is pretty damn pathetic when you think about it. And we can't stay down here forever. Eventually, someone's going to find us, or the people with the bronchial infections are going to have be relocated. The damp air isn't doing them any favors.”_

“ _Nobody told us about that.”_

“ _Hah. You think they'll do anything that'll puts their whole damn work into jeopardy? Wake up, they don't want to help us. They want to let us rot, then bury us and say they tried their best.”_

“ _Do you know who 'they' are?”_

“ _The government. We would've died a long time ago if there hadn't been some guys not okay with that. The only reason we are still alive and the military's not in here yet is because we got help.”_

“ _Help? Like the Electric Man?”_

“ _Cole? Yeah. He's one of our best guys. Makes sure we are secure.”_

“ _Where is he now?”_

“ _Seen him a few times, but he can't be everywhere. For every guy he deals with, two more are waiting to take their place. Bastards only back down when he sics Alex on their asses. Though not long. As soon either of 'em turns their backs to 'em, they're back.”_

“ _Alex?”_

“ _Cole's friend. Has a real penchant for stabby things. Most guys think twice about assaulting us when he's around.He got this whole shit down too. Sometimes I think he's the only one around here who actually enjoys being in the middle of the thick.”_

“ _Who is he?”_

“ _I'm pretty sure you're gonna know him. The last name's Mercer.”_

“ _Wait- Alex Mercer...as in The Terrorist of Manhattan?”_

“ _Dunno about you, but what I've seen here tells me the thing over in Manhattan had to be similar to the bullshit here. Giant cover-up of some shit done by people much higher in the food chain, blame put on a scape goat. Guy's scary alright, but he's a good man. Helps us with whatever we need: heavy lifting, food, medications, weapons to defend ourselves, driving off scavengers.”_

“ _...Are you certain of this?”_

“ _Cole trusts him, and I trust Cole.”_

“ _So...they're both helping you?”_

“ _Of course they're helping us. Hell, Cole told us about the platform here.”_

“ _Thanks for your time, Captain. Anything else you'd like to add?”_

“ _What I really want to say probably isn't suitable for television.”_

“ _Do you mind if we talk to some of your patients?”_

“ _Feel free. Bitching about this Hellhole will probably do them some good.”_

* * *

 

“ _Your name is Dana, right? Dana Mercer?”_

“ _Yup.”_

“ _And Alex Mercer is your brother?”_

“ _Yeah.”_

“ _We've heard he's been helping the people here.”_

“ _Of course he does. I know he isn't exactly the nicest guy around, but at least he's doing something. Empire's dying, and him and Cole are the only ones able to do something against it.”_

“ _And...what about the bounty on his head? The act of terrorism in Manhattan?”_

“ _Ha. You're funny. Alex was the one to end this entire fuck there.”_

“ _Please clarify.”_

“ _Mhm. The story's pretty long. Guess I can give you the short version, though.”_

“ _Please do that, I'm interested.”_

“ _Okay, so this started in Idaho. Little backwater place called Hope. Anyways, the government- or part of it- found a virus that made monkeys stronger and smarter and thought: Hey, let's build Supersoldiers from it. Like Captain America, you know?”_

“ _Yeah, and?”_

“ _Well, figures that testing viruses on people was a dumb idea. Infection spread and Hope turned into Hell. Military goes in and nukes the place. But they took the virus with them. Then they gave it to their buddies at Gentek and told them to continue their work on Supersoldiers. Or maybe some weapon. Guess what? They fucked it over too.”_

“ _Gentek- that's the first time I hear about their involvement.”_

“ _Yeah, to be fair, most of Gentek had nothing to do with it. But the boss was on it, and some others. Alex too, he used to work there.”_

“ _He worked at Gentek? On...viral weapons?”_

“ _Yup. He figured he wasn't working on cure for cancer and decided to blow everything over. Whistleblower, you know? Anyways, that ended with him getting cornered in Penn Station. He should have died there but...he's a conduit. He survived and fled. And then the virus got out of Gentek and infected the city. Alex stopped it and the fucking nuke the military tried to use to erase their own mistake.”_

“ _Oh. That is pretty much to take in... And...then what do you think about the situation here?”_

“ _It's the same. Like fucking the same, minus the infection.”_

“ _But the quarantine-”_

“ _The only diseases I see here are caused by polluted water. Even before the treatment plant went down, there was a crazy bitch putting poison into the water. And the explosion that happened? It sprayed all sorts of radioactive material around, people got sick from getting into contact with it. But no, there's no infection going around that deserves this kind of quarantine.”_

“ _And the government isn't helping.”_

“ _The government is trying their best to hide what they did. Someone up there's more corrupt than African Warlords. You know, we got proof that the bomb that started all of this was brought here by the government. Bitch directly responsible is named Moya, if you're looking for someone to blame.”_

“ _Well...I thank you for your time, then.”_

“ _Heh. Alex will probably go up a wall if he finds out I talked to you. But it can't be helped- the world needs to know...Haha. What am I talking about. Of course he's gonna go up a wall.”_

“ _Do...do we need to be worried?”_

“ _No. He's ruthless, but not heartless. He will leave you right alone. If not, tell him I'm gonna have his hide if he does something, okay?”_

“ _We'll remember.”_

* * *

 

“ _You shouldn't be here. Get out of here. Quickly.”_

“ _COLE!”_

“ _Following scenes have been taken near the Steel Harbor in Empire City.”_ The woman on the screen said with a slightly nervous expression. _“Provided by two USTV reporters, Linda Kaufman and Phil Maabe. They clearly show the so-called Electric Man, Cole MacGrath, and the Terrorist of Manhattan, Alex Mercer, previously believed to be dead, fight what appears to be a mutated creature, defending the Marines of the United States as well as innocent civilians in the process. However, in the duration of this conflict, the USS Washington was seriously damaged and sank in the harbor of Empire City. It appears there have been several casualties, though none through the sinking ship as it had been evacuated in time, but rather the mutated creature assaulting the men.”_

She shuffled her paper and sighed out.  _“The apparent battle against rogue governmental forces was not the only thing Kaufman and Maabe uncovered. As it appeared, we have been knowingly deceived by General Bridges. There never have been military food drops, but a military invasion. The people of Empire city were forced to hide, locate even the most important institutions like the hospital into the local sewers under appalling conditions. Government sources claim that FBI Agent Moya Jones and General Darren Bridges- working without the authorization of their superiors or the United States Military- initiated a series of disastrous decisions that resulted in a tragic loss of lives. As for MacGrath and Mercer- both remain at large and the CDC confirm that the quarantine around Empire City will remain for the foreseeable future-”_

“Ah, shut it, Bitch.” Dana shut the television off with more force than necessary and marched outside of their makeshift commando central, where Alex and several men were working to clear the Stampton Bridge. The quarantine was still active, but at least the people of the United States had managed to force the government to send supplies to Empire, and for this they needed the bridge open.

“Alex!” She shouted, drawing her brother's attention. “Can you believe this crap?! They've clearly seen you work your fucking ass off, and what is the thanks? Not even an 'investigation pending'!”

“What did you expect?” Alex asked casually, effortlessly moving a massive crate. “A pat on the back and a 'thank you'? Cole and I- we pissed off the _entire_ government. And there's no way they are ever going to admit that we exist because they wanted to play God and create nifty weapons to blow anybody away they deemed as enemies.” He put the crate down and crossed his arms. “If you want them gone, however, then you'll have to let me murder a fuck-load of bastards. Probably three quarters of whoever has the money.”

Dana scoffed. “Yeah, we'll call  _that_ Plan B.”

“Oh. And Plan A would be?”

“Just murder everybody who gets into our way. Eventually, they won't send any others.” Dana threw her arms up. “I seriously had enough of this bullshit. You and Cole saved the city- _saved_ the city- and what do you get? A 'MacGrath and Mercer remain at large'!”

Alex shrugged. “I'd like to give a fuck about that, but they have all left in one glorious migration when I told Moya to shove her gun up her own ass and fire.”

“Oh?” Dana arched her eyebrow. “Care to clarify that?”

“I'm tired of running away, Dana”, Alex replied. “Tired of hiding. I know you don't want this either. I just want you to be happy.” He spread his arms slightly. “So, for your sake, I'm going to stop running.”

Dana nodded slowly. “Yeah. Show the World that it can't fuck with us. We are here now, and nothing's gonna change that.”

Alex chuckled slightly. “And if it tries, I'm going to show it just how  _wrong_ it was to do so.”

“Hmhm. Just remember- leave enough of these fucks left for the cops to _identify_ them, okay?”

“Deal.”

Dana cleared her throat. “Just that you know- I talked to Kaufman.”

Alex inclined his head. “And?”

“Told them about you. Don't worry- I never said anything about you not being the _real_ Alex or that you're a fucking Weapon of Mass Destruction. I made them believe you were a Whistleblower that got caught. Oh, you're a conduit to them, too.”

Alex frowned. “That...might actually work. Just hope that nobody's going to look to closely.”

“Conduits exist. It's easier to tell them you're one of them rather than something that wasn't suppose to exist in the first place.” She stepped back and tilted her head, eying the crates while Alex's expression became distant. “You done here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Harms told me to ask you to get over to him. He says there is something going on at Steel Harbor. That there are not only the Marines now, but someone else.”

In that moment, Dana noticed her big brother slump his shoulders. “I know”, he said slowly. “Blackwatch. They're here now. I can smell them.”

Dana paled. “Fuck! Already?!”

“Yeah. Was inevitable. My face is plastered all over the news, after all.” He sighed once and took a step back. “I'll check it out.”

“Alex-”

“Don't worry. They haven't managed to stop me with their full force in Manhattan, and they won't do so here now with a skeleton crew. I'll be fine.” He put a hand on Dana's shoulder and squeezed gently. “However, I need you to stay around a crowd of people. I don't want Blackwatch to grab you and use you as bait. Keep your head down until I return.”

“Okay.”

Alex nodded with a small smile, then turned and headed off the bridge. Dana sighed. If bad came to worst, then they would have to clean out  _lots_ of blood.

* * *

 

If bad came to worst, then there was going to be a lot of blood spilled. Alex actually hoped for it to go wrong. Hell, it was  _Blackwatch_ . They needed to die just on principle.

But everybody he wanted dead in the past was dead already, and the upper echelons he wouldn't get to just by killing and consuming the low grunts. Also...He glanced down slightly irritated, to where several cops and civilians stopped and watched him race across the roofs in awe. He had  _audience_ . Which sadly meant he'd have to save his violent tendencies for when these guys shoot first _._ It wasn't that he gave a fuck about what people thought about him, but assaulting guys just because he didn't like them sounded so...immature. Plus, Heller would do good on his threat and actually come over here to beat the ever-loving snot out of him. He already had shouted at Alex for good two hours just the day before, when the news got out, finishing with a threatening 'Be glad L.A.'s on the other side of the fucking continent, or else I'd get over there and whoop your fucking scrawny white ass'. Now Heller was a lot less powerful than Alex, but the Evolved had a sort of stubbornness that made it hard to deal with him once he started with something.

Alex glanced back towards the civilians as he leapt over a five-story building with a single bound. Maybe he could get them to do something else and leave him five minutes with Blackwatch, so he wouldn't have any witnesses to his lethal prejudice towards Blackwatch.

_Wait. They could actually be the solution to this little problem..._

Empire City  _knew_ him. They  _trusted_ him. And the USTV News had posted his face everywhere, telling people he was a  _Whistleblower_ , and a conduit. It wasn't as if...

Alex grinned, then changed his trajectory to get closer to the ground. He hit the street a few seconds later, and slowly decreased his speed to be in a simple jog when he reached Warden Harms.

The older man turned, and his expression lit up (and that in itself was already strange, though not entirely unwelcome). “Alex! Good to see you.”

“Likewise”, the Runner acknowledged. “What is the situation?”

“We've been keeping an eye on the Marines”, the warden told him, “You know, make sure they don't dare spill their crap into the city. But they've been busy cleaning up their own mess. Just, these other guys appeared then.” He motioned to the black-clad soldiers milling about, putting up all sorts of viral scanners. “I get the creeps just watching them.”

“Understandable”, Alex replied, eyes narrowed. “Blackwatch.”

“Wait-” Harm's brows furrowed. “Are they those guys this Moya woman wanted to call in case you don't do what she wanted?”

“Yes”, Alex nodded. “They're dangerous, but not stupid. I can deal with them, but I do need your help with that.”

Harms furrowed his brows, and glanced over to Steel Harbor. “I trust you”, he eventually pointed out. “What am I supposed to do for you?”

* * *

 

Robert Cross sighed on the inside as he watched his men scramble across 'Steel Harbor'. General Rooks was just in the process of telling the Marines nearby that they were going to take control now, though he could tell the men didn't want them to be here. No wonder, Blackwatch didn't have the best reputation after Manhattan. But this, this was a gross waste of time. He was certain that there was nothing left, and every moment they spend out in the open was another moment somebody could try to dismantle them.

Not Mercer though. Cross figured after having his face pasted all over the news, he probably had already relocated to the opposite side of the country, to be as far away from Empire City as possible. He'd done so every time before, and all Blackwatch managed to find were traces of the virus and a lot of bodies to process.

So when the harbor shook, and dust was whirled up when something hit the ground with enough force to throw all of them off-balance, he felt surprised and confused at the same time.  _What the..._

“We got contact!” Cross whirled at the alarm, just as everyone else did. “Fuck!” Someone else shouted, even before the dust settled, “It's ZEUS! Orders?!”

Cross' eyes widened at the sight of the uncanny lanky shape of the Runner march towards them. His hands were jammed into his pockets, but he knew it was just a facade. That guy could easily wipe out the entire platoon without even moving.

_Mercer? Here? He wasn't supposed to be here!_

“Sir!” Rooks' right-hand man snapped, “Sir- you need to take cover!”

“Too late”, Rooks claimed, fingers tightening around the trigger of his rifle. “Too late for that, son.” Not that it would have been effective at all- if Mercer could shrug off a fucking _nuke_ , then guns wouldn't even begin to interest him.

“On my mark”, Cross barked, lifting his grenade launcher. He knew it was futile, but that didn't mean they had to roll over and deal with it. “Nobody- and I repeat- _nobody_ shoots before I say so!”

His men were trained to obey his every word, but they had heard the stories. Stories about ZEUS decimating their men whenever he found them. Stories about bases wiped out within moments, stories about one man after the other going missing. They were ready to shoot and kill, but at the same time, they were  _afraid_ of what was going to happen if they pissed this downright indestructible thing off.

Not to mention that they didn't have their big guns with them- this was a simple recon mission, and the bosses didn't like them wasting money on cold trails, like it had happened so often before.

Just this time, Mercer was actually  _there_ . And they didn't have any big guns because of some corner-cutting bastards. Chances looked pretty glum.

Oh, Cross wasn't too worried about his own life- Mercer valued him as an ally and would leave him and a hand full of others alive, but he'd have to go through all this questioning again.

And Mercer  _hated_ Blackwatch. The only reason he'd get out here in the open was to massacre them.

Though in the past, Mercer had shown mercy...at times. And in most cases, he'd let them right alone if they gave him no reason to flay them. Which was the only reason right now Cross did not give the order to shoot that thing.

“Sir?” One of them asked, “Orders?”

“Wait”, the Specialist growled. His eyes narrowed and locked with Mercer's slightly luminous ones. The Runner cocked his head, then slowly turned to glance at the General.

“Rooks”, he drawled. “On a word?”

The General froze, then his rifle snapped an inch higher. The other Blackwatch units followed suit. Mercer, however, furrowed his brows and eyed the weapons with no apparent interest.

“That's a foolish thing to do”, he pointed out, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You and I know perfectly well it won't harm me. But I will take it personally then.” He leaned back, eyes half-lidded. “I am not here to maim you, you know”, he pointed out.

Cross frowned. What the fuck was that bastard doing? Usually, he'd never march right into the middle of a Blackwatch Base, not when he was trying to keep hidden.

“I've come to...make a bargain.” Cross' head snapped up, and his eyes widened by a fraction. _What the...?_

“A _bargain_?” Rooks questioned. “A fucking bargain? This is not a matter open for discussion, ZEUS!”

“Oh, believe me-”, Mercer's eyes flashed crimson, and his surface rippled as a very graphic grin appeared on his face. “-it is, in fact.” He spread his arms slightly, expression still in a mocking smirk. “The deal's simple: You leave me the fuck alone, and I will not tell the World about Blackwatch. Easy, right?”

Rooks snorted. “What? Do you think you have any position to tell us what to do?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Mercer cocked his head and glanced at them lazily. “Or do you want _everybody_ to know what you've done in Idaho? Carnival I, Carnival II? Do you want everybody to know that you experimented on an entire town _without_ their knowledge? Or...” He dropped his arms. “Do you want them to know that it was _your_ work that Greene ran free in Manhattan? Or maybe that it was your work with that fucking parasite that caused the second Outbreak?”

His teeth were bared now, but he still hadn't done a single move towards them. “I _know_ _everything_.” He told them. “And I have the data. How controllable will the fallout be if I send your data to the internet? You won't be able to shut it all down. Once it's out there, you will have lost.”

Rooks' jaw snapped open, but Mercer cut him off. “I don't fucking care what it will do to me, but I am done cowering in the shade. If you want something from me- come and get it. Though-” His expression suddenly twisted into something  _sinister_ . “I advise you to be careful about that.”

“ _Hello Empire City!”_ Cross swore and whipped around at the sudden static shriek and a voice blaring right at him. A massive television screen attached to a nearby building, that had been switched off previously, had come to life, and a shadowed figure was visible. _“I think it's time to apologize. I've done a big mistake declaring an innocent man a criminal, and for this, I am deeply sorry.”_

What the fuck was that?! Cross' eyes flicked between the screen and Mercer's smug expression. Did he plan for this?

“ _But now we finally know what went down: A DARPA agent paid a lot of money to make a weapon, one that detonated right here in Empire. And despite me blaming the wrong guy, he still went out on it and saved all our butts. I am deeply embarrassed by what I said earlier.”_

What in God's name...

“ _As for the other news, your Voice of Survival has something juicy for you. Those of you from the Historic- what can you tell us about our Electric Man's brother-in-arms?”_

“ _Guy's really scary. Ripped one of those First Sons right in half.”_

“ _Shit, thought I'd die. But then that guy pops up outta nowhere and smashes the whole gang!”_

“ _Vanished without a word.”_

“ _He saved my brother from a bomb.”_

“ _Those shape-shifting Powers are creepy- but otherwise sweet.”_

“ _My cousin told me he's been over at the prison. Fought of a whole bunch of Dustmen on his own.”_

“ _Him and Cole- we owe 'em our lives.”_

“ _Beat this scary black thing into the ground.”_

“ _Pulled my ass and that of my buddies out of the fire.”_

“ _He brought food to the clinics, didn't even want a thank you.”_

“ _There you see it. That guy helped the Electric Man making the city safe. So whatever you hear, whatever the government is trying to tell you- always remember that he rescued all our ungrateful asses and didn't want anything in return. Keep up the good work, guys.”_

Accompanied by several interviews with different civilians were records of Mercer (and sometimes that electric kid) moving through the city, beating up gang members and...rescuing people. Cross' head snapped back so he could stare at Mercer, who was idly picking at his nails.

“What the Fuck?!”

“It's just a little reminder”, Mercer told them in a bored tone. “You see- I _know_ you are going to make me disappear. And Dana. And whoever else was in contact with me. However...” His expression turned into a grin. “I'm afraid around five million people of Empire City alone, plus about...a third of the _entire_ population of the United States, is a bit _too_ much. Even for Blackwatch. Wouldn't you agree?”

Cross choked once, swallowing a God-to-honest laughter and barely managed to cover it with a wheeze. He saw Rooks' expression, a wide-eyed stare of disbelief and  _terror_ . Holy Fuck, this kid had a fucking nerve!

Mercer turned to Rooks again, the grin a bit too sharp and demanding. “I think you understand, General. Now a lot ot people know about me- and more importantly, a lot of people view me as the one that saved them. I doubt whatever you can do will ever change their impression without exposing yourself in the progress. You won't be able to make me  _disappear_ .” 

And then, he turned on his heel and fucking marched right back out of the compound. The Blackwatch Soldiers just stared at his back, while Rooks stood there like a fish out of the water. Cross chomped down on his lower lip in an attempt to appear like the stoic asshole he was.

But this was fucking  _gold_ . Mercer just stomped all over Blackwatch, managed to silence them, to blackmail them- and they couldn't do a fucking thing.

He couldn't even be angry at him. Holy shit, that guy would go places.  _Good work there, Mercer._

* * *

 

Cole stared at his phone in his hand as if it was coming to life any moment soon to tear out his jugular. He wasn't too sure whether this scenario was actually preferably against what he had planned to do.

He scoffed. Damnit. He was Cole MacGrath, the guy that took on all of the Reapers and Sasha, the Dustmen and Alden, the First Sons and Kessler, David Warner, the entirety of the American military  _and_ Alex Mercer himself. He could do a simple phone call.

His fingers froze over the call button, the number he painstalkingly punched in over the last hour (not because he didn't know it, but because he didn't want to put it in) sat there, mocking him.

“C'mon Cole”, he ground out. “You can do it.” His finger pressed the button.

When the dialing tone squealed into his ear, he almost dropped the phone like a live grenade and ran for the hills, but he stubbornly kept it in his hand. Maybe they weren't there. Maybe they didn't hear the ringing?

“ _Yeah?”_

Shit. Cole swallowed. He couldn't do this. He couldn't fucking do this.

“ _Speak up, man”_

His lips were dry and his pulse had jumped up. God damnit. He  _had_ to do this. 

“ _Either you say something or I will hang up, you got me, shithead?!”_

Cole inhaled sharply. “Hey Dan.” Please let him hang up. Please let him not hear it. Please let the connection be cut-

“ _Cole?!”_ The voice skipped by several octaves.

Cole grimaced. “Yeah”, he replied, fighting to keep his tone even. “It's me.” In an instant, he heard agitated voices in the background, then a harsh voice requesting to be put on speaker.

“ _Cole? What is-”_ A second, deeper male voice demanded to know, but was almost immediately cut off by a female voice.

“ _Cole? Oh my God! We've seen the news- Are you alright?!”_

He winced at the volume. “No”, he admitted. “Nothing's alright.” He sat down into the gravel and ran a hand across his scalp. He'd have to shave soon, his five 'o clock shadow was on the way towards growing into a full beard, and his hair was getting too long.

“ _Cole?”_ , the woman asked carefully. _“Baby, what is the matter?”_

He smiled sadly. “You haven't called me that since I was thirteen, mom.”

“ _Cole”_ , his father threw in, _“Four weeks ago, we heard of that explosion in Empire. Then the quarantine went up. Zeke told us you were in a coma. And then, nothing. No call, no answer on our messages, no word from you. We were worried sick. And now there are the news calling you a terrorist and show you jump off buildings and- and- throw around lightning, for God's sake. What happened?”_

The courier exhaled, turning his words over in his head. “The explosion- it was a package I transported. It blew right into my face, turned six blocks into wasteland. When I woke up, I was suddenly able to control electricty.”

“ _No way, man!”_ , Danny, his brother, commented. _“Awesome!”_

Cole's lips twitched up. “Yeah. It's pretty awesome. Was kind of the reason I didn't call back- you know, electronics fizzle off when I'm around now.” He shook his head. “But now I wish it never happened. Because it caused so much trouble. Because...” He swallowed once. “Because it killed Trish.”

“ _What?!”_

Cole winced at the volume of the outcry of his father. He knew how much his family adored Trish.  _Your old man carried a picture of Trish in his wallet, Cole. He told people she was the daughter he never had. Did you know that? He couldn't wait for you to marry her._

“She- I couldn't rescue her”, the courier admitted with a low voice. “I've tried to keep her safe. I tried so hard- but in the end I failed.” He inhaled to swallow the lump in his throat. “I couldn't heal her either. And now she's gone.”

“ _Baby”_ , his mother sounded like she was trying to keep herself from crying. _“Why don't you come back home? Maybe we can help you.”_

Cole shook his head. “I can't”, he admitted. “There's not only that quarantine cutting us off- I also can't leave Empire. The city's still too broken. And I- I'm one of the few that can actually do something.” He sighed. “Don't you understand? I have these powers now, and I am trying to help people with it. If I leave, then those gangs are going to get back to power, or the military's going to try to destroy evidence. I can't leave them now.” Plus, there was the matter with the Beast. If David could beat him into the ground, what chances would he have against the thing that made  _Kessler_ scared if he didn't train his abilities?

He could hear his mom sob, and a deep sigh from his father.  _“You're stubborn, then”_ , his dad commented.  _“But I never thought I'd ever hear this from you, of all people.”_ He cleared his throat.  _“Empire City is your job, isn't it? And you are serious about taking care of her, right?”_

“Yeah. I don't care how many loaded guns are waiting for me, because I'm going to beat everybody up who thinks they can do as they please.”

“ _I'm proud of you, son”_ , his father claimed, and Cole paused. Did he really just-? _“Just remember, we are here too. If you have any problem, just call us, okay? Don't grow into a stranger.”_

The courier swallowed. “Thanks, dad. I'll keep that in mind.”

His father chuckled.  _“Yeah. So I guess we'll leave you to your job then, Hero. Go and save the city.”_

“I'm going to.”

His parents cut the connection and Cole was left staring at his phone. He didn't even turn his attention away when he heard Zeke approach.

“Hey man, you finally called your folks?”

Cole furrowed his brows and finally looked at his best friend. “Yeah. I think I'm going to throw up now.”

Zeke chuckled. “Hell, never pegged you for the nervous type, Cole.”

“Me neither”, he commented dryly, “But I guess trying to tell your parents that you can shoot lightning now is a whole different situation.”

He fell silent and glanced at the water of the bay. It was so peaceful now. He knew it wouldn't last forever, but at the moment all the day's work had been done.

Zeke chucked stones into the water, trying to make them skip across the surface. Eventually, he cleared his throat. “You think that monster-thing's dead? Like, for good?”

Cole frowned, glancing at the water as he remembered the stench of burning flesh and the horrid screams David made when his lightning strikes tore him apart. “I really hope so”, he muttered. Nobody deserved to survive something as brutal as  _that_ .

And it wasn't just that, either. Alex had told him what he found in David's old house. He had lost his wife and daughter- and Cole felt  _sorry_ for the guy. He knew how it was to lose everybody you ever cared about, and he understood how easy it was to fall into rage, especially if one had those powers. But unlike him, David never had somebody who would catch him, who would stop him from going too far. Their roles could have been reversed, Cole knew. That was why he couldn't be angry at the other guy, not even knowing that he had killed a lot of people- Cole had killed too, way more than David ever had, and still he was a 'hero' to the people. David was just a 'monster'. But, at some point, he had been a family father, who just got the wrong job and ended in Kessler's claws. One tiny moment in his life, and everything went to shit. He understood it. Knew how it was- so he had made sure that nobody forgot about this either. David Warner wasn't just a beast, he had been a man before.

Cole just hoped he was in a better place now.

At his side, Zeke was talking about how the battle was all over the internet, and that somebody in Hollywood already wanted to make a movie from it. Cole didn't care, because he hadn't done anything to become famous. He just wanted to make sure his friends were safe- and when Trish died, all he wanted to do was kill the man who murdered her.

But what was left for him now? How was he supposed to continue? He had powers now, powers no other human had. The government wouldn't leave him alone. They wanted him, they wanted his powers, they wanted his abilities.

Alex had told him what he found on Moya, and Cole had to realize that even without that woman, others were going to take her place and try to continue what she tried to finish.

And Cole wasn't Mercer. He couldn't run away forever. He couldn't and didn't want to carve a bloody swathe into these guys. He just wanted to be left alone so he could mourn his girlfriend in silence.

Not that the government gave a shit about that. They were going to continue trying. And in the end, they were going to win. Because they were so much stronger than Cole was.

But Cole wasn't alone.

He blinked in realization- it wasn't him against the World- it was the World against them. He wasn't on his own in this entire mess- he still had Zeke. He had Dana. He had Alex. He had Harms. And he had every single person of Empire City. The same people that wanted him dead just two weeks ago now stood behind him, supported him, helped him so he wouldn't have to do everything himself.

It felt...nice, he supposed, though he was aware he couldn't lean back any more. There was still so much left to do. Empire still wasn't fixed, and the Beast would arrive. He had to stop it, though had no idea  _how_ .

His phone chimed. Cole furrowed his brows and glanced at the number. No caller ID.

Still, he answered it. “Hello?”

“ _Is this Cole MacGrath?”_ A woman asked. Cole frowned at Zeke, who shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah. Who's there?”

“ _My name is Lucy Kuo. I worked with John White in the NSA. We need to talk.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Don't worry, I have already planned to do inFAMOUS 2, Second Son and Festival of Blood.  
> Currently I am working hard(ly) on Prototype. As soon it hits 15 chapters, I'll start uploading.
> 
> Until then,  
> DLRYnn.


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